


Miss Dior

by ficmuse



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Blood Kink, Cutting, Dom Jughead Jones, Dom!Juggie, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Porn With Plot, Razors, Spanking, sub!Betty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-09 02:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficmuse/pseuds/ficmuse
Summary: Betty tumbles over her breaking point. Since Jughead was the one to break her down, he needs to find the right way to put her back together. They both discover something new in the process.Trigger Warning: Self-HarmSet beginning in 2x10





	1. Razor

Jughead needed to ask to change seats in Civics. He sat down at his desk in the classroom a few minutes before the bell rang. A familiar blonde ponytail filled his field of vision, as it would for the next forty-five minutes. Some days he could smell her shampoo; other days she smelled more strongly of her favorite perfume, Miss Dior. The smell of it made him hard; he had absolutely no say in the matter. His dick was still absolutely head over heels in love with Betty Cooper, even if his brain had ended things.

When, exactly, would this become easier? How long did it take to fall out of love with someone? Was it weeks, months, or years? His dad was still hanging on to his mom; she’d been gone two hundred and seventy-two days. So, longer than that, apparently.

Trevor Cantwell walked across the classroom towards them. The poor kid had been out sick with mono for what seemed like months. He put his hand on Betty’s shoulder and smiled down at her. She looked up at him, her blue eyes warm.

Jughead stared at Trevor’s hand. It was caramel brown against the light blue of Betty’s sweater. He had a large hand; it made Betty’s shoulder seem tiny. Jughead’s hand had looked huge on her shoulder, too. He remembered how nice it felt, the warmth of Betty’s shoulder against his skin.

“So, it’s a date?” Trevor grinned at Betty, his immaculate white teeth flashing.

“You can pick me up at seven,” Betty replied, a blush on her cheeks.

Trevor turned towards Jughead and gave him a genuine smile. “Hey, Jug. Nice to see you back in school.” 

Fuck off, Trevor. “Nice to see you too, man.”

With one more lingering touch of his hand on Betty’s shoulder, Trevor went back to his own seat.

Jughead heard Betty sigh. The sigh of, we need to have an uncomfortable conversation. The sigh of, I know you don’t want to hear this. He knew what was coming before she even turned around. 

“Hey, Juggie.” Her voice was sad; her eyes were soft; and for a flickering second, Jughead hated her.

“What’s up, Betts?” His voice was sarcastic and cold and just...not even remotely nice. Jughead tapped his pencil against the desk. It was a welcome alternative to screaming at her or running away from her, both of which had occurred to him as possible responses to her sad, pitying voice.

“So, how are you?” she asked quietly. 

Dying inside. “Super. Great.”

“I just wanted to tell you that I’ve decided to try dating again-” She was using her soft, annoying kindergarten story time voice and it made him want to hurt her. So he did.

“I don’t give a fuck what you do,” he snapped. “That’s what it meant, when I broke things off.”

Jughead saw the blaze of pain in Betty’s eyes and then...nothing. Just icy coldness. She nodded, her ponytail bobbing. “Good to know.”

She turned away from him. He stared at the back of her neck, the gold chain against her white skin, the three little freckles just above her collar.

God, he hated the smell of Miss Dior.

****

Late that night, Jughead pulled up on his motorcycle and saw Betty sitting on the steps of his trailer. Her arms were crossed across her torso and she was shivering. It was all of twenty degrees outside. No coat, no hat, no gloves. What the hell was she doing?

Jughead turned off the engine and got off the bike.

“What are you doing here, Betty? Shouldn’t you be on your date with Trevor?” Jughead hated the bitter, bitchy sound of his own voice.

Betty looked up at him. She’d been crying; her face was still wet with tears. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what, exactly?” he asked.

“Can’t pretend that when I see you it doesn’t hurt like hell.” Betty looked up at him, her eyes full of pain. ”Because it does. It hurts so much. With you back at school, this is so much worse.”

He was hurting, too. He was just better at hiding it than she was. He’d had a lot more practice, after all.

Jughead sighed. She was hurting; he was the cause. Suck it up and hear her out, like a man. “Do you want to come in and talk?” he offered.

She shook her head no. “No, I just needed to ask you a question.” Her lips were trembling with cold. “Just one.”

He stood in front of her, nervously jingling his keys. “Fire away.”

“I was hurting and broken before we got together. I thought that falling in love with you would make everything better. For a while, it did.” Betty looked up at him and smiled, dazzling him with her golden beauty. “And then.” The smile died, and so did that spark of joy, leaving her empty. “And then you told me you loved me and everything good that we had just... stopped.” 

“I didn’t mean for that to happen.” The timing of his confession of love could not have been worse. Because that was how his life went; every moment of hope was magically transformed into misery, in a constant sleight of hand.

“I just don’t understand.” Betty curled her hands into fists and Jughead died inside a little, knowing that even now, she was puncturing her skin with her sharp nails. “I don’t understand why you lied to me.”

“Lied about what, Betty?”

“You lied-” Betty began and then shivered, her entire body shuddering from the cold.

He couldn’t bear to watch her like this any more. “Come inside. If you want to talk to me, come inside.”

She shook her head no again.

Jughead grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. He’d had enough of the misery, the tears, and her self-mutilation. Even now, she was slowly working her lower lip between her teeth, shredding her skin.

“You’re coming inside with me, now.” Jughead’s voice was hard and angry and the opposite of everything he’d always tried to be with her: soft, tender, and gentle.

He pulled her into the trailer and locked it with all the bolts. His father was off in Greendale doing God knew what. He and Betty had the time alone to do the prolonged post-mortem of their relationship that she clearly needed. It held no appeal to him, to slap the cold, dead remains of their love on a slab and pick at it, analyze it, until it had been rendered meaningless. But she, clearly, needed to.

Jughead sat her down on the couch and threw a blanket over her but she was still shivering. Her lips were tinged with blue, her skin pale as milk.

If she wouldn’t take care of her own body, he would. “Stand up.”

She looked up at him in surprise but did as he asked.

He unbuttoned the baby blue cashmere cardigan and tossed it aside.

“What are you doing?” Betty looked at him without any emotion, her voice flat.

“You need to take a hot shower and warm up.”

“I’m not cold. I’m fine.” Betty was shivering, her whole body twitching, and she insisted she wasn’t cold. Her brain wasn’t talking to her body any more.

Did she have hypothermia? Was that what it was called? Why the fuck hadn’t Jughead paid closer attention in health class?

Button by tiny button, Jughead unfastened the white button down shirt Betty wore.

“I don’t want you to take my shirt off. I’m fine,” she protested.

“I don’t fucking care, Betty.” As Jughead peeled back the sleeves, she cried out in pain. He looked down at her arms. They were slashed with small red lines. She’d been cutting herself, with something thin and sharp. Line after line, up and down both forearms.

He was both angry and scared. “What the fuck is this?” His voice held only the anger.

“I was trying to feel something,” she explained, her voice choked. “Because I feel like my heart died. I feel like I’m dead.” Her hand fluttered at her chest and then dropped away. 

Jughead had done this to her. Guilt and remorse flooded through him. His throat filled with bile. He’d broken her heart and broken something else, too. He didn’t know what to call it; her soul; her spirit; perhaps her sense of self. Some important component of the girl he loved had been smashed apart. He’d done this, in his stupidity and his misplaced sense of honor.

Jughead didn’t know how to fix this. This was beyond him. But she was still shivering; that he could fix. He could warm her up.

He unzipped her skirt and it fell around her ankles. All she wore now was a white lace bra and wispy little panties. It would have stirred his arousal, if not for the angry red slashes across her upper thighs. His beautiful Betty had done her best to turn herself into a Jackson Pollock painting.

He was so pissed off that he did something he’d never done before: he hit her. With his open hand, he slapped her on her ass cheek. 

“Don’t you ever do this again. Never.”

She looked up at him, her eyes sad and blank. “No.” He didn’t know if she was agreeing or disagreeing.

He spanked her, the sound of his hand on her ass sharp in the air. “Do. Not. Cut. Yourself. Again.” Each word was punctuated with a hard smack.

He kicked off his shoes, picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. He turned on the shower as hot as it would go and stepped inside with her.

“Your clothes will get all wet,” Betty said, her voice remote.

“My clothes are really the least of my problems.” 

Betty leaned her head against Jughead’s shoulder as the cold water cascaded over them both. Just when he thought the water would never heat up, the pipes creaked and the water became blissfully warm. 

He rubbed her arms, her legs, her feet, trying to get her warm. Some of her cuts were new enough that they opened up in the water. Jughead watched the streams of blood trickling over Betty’s skin and felt useless. He felt completely ill equipped to deal with this. 

When she felt warm again, he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He slid on the tile in his wet socks and nearly crashed into the floor, with her still in his arms. Through it all, shower and near collapse, Betty hadn’t said a word.

He threw a towel over her and carried her into his bedroom. When they reached the bed, she threw the towel across it. She sat down on the edge and unfastened her wet bra and tossed it onto the floor. She stripped off her panties and lay across his bed. The towel was under her head; the tangle of her wet hair surrounded her face like a halo.

Jughead had many fantasies about naked Betty Cooper, sprawled across his bed. None of them had been like this. She closed her eyes and let her head tilt to the side. She raised one arm and placed it across her face. She was hiding from him, although she was nude. Her knee sprawled to the side, revealing parts of her he’d never seen: the light golden triangle of hair between her legs; the sharp curve of her hipbones; the warm pink of her pussy; the milky skin of her inner thighs.

He stripped off his wet clothes and climbed next to her. With his added weight, the bed shifted. The last time she’d been here with him, he’d held her in the curve of his arms. It felt like another lifetime, now. 

She wasn’t his any longer. He didn’t have the right to kiss the gentle curve of her shoulder or run his tongue along the edge of her ear. Above all, he didn’t have the right to slip his hand between her legs and touch the silky hair there. He’d never touched her like that when she was his and it was too late, now, for that. 

She rolled back towards him, so that her body was spooned against his. Her arm still covered her eyes. He was listening to her breathe in tiny inhalations that sounded too fast, too harsh. He caressed the back of her arm in a way that had always soothed her in the past. Instead, he saw a row of goose bumps arise in the wake of his touch.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck and caught a whiff of her perfume: Miss Dior. The scent filled his nostrils and he could feel its effect moving through his body, rousing him with desire. He moved back away from her, so that his erection was no longer resting against her back.

She rolled to face him. “You still want me.” Her eyes were warmer, slightly less remote. There was a flicker of Betty in there; a tiny spark of the girl he adored.

“Wanting you was never the problem.” 

She put her hand on his wrist and placed his hand on his dick. “Show me.”

“Show you what?” He didn’t understand.

“Show me how much you want me.” Her hand closed over his and she moved his fingers up and down his own shaft, her eyes locked on his. 

This was a terrible idea. She was miserable, hurting. Nothing had changed. They still couldn’t be together.

“I’ll show you too,” she offered.

She leaned away from him and spread her legs wide apart. He watched her slide one finger inside herself, than another. Her eyes grew warm; her cheeks began to flush as she kept looking at him, with those wide, beautiful eyes.

Jughead fisted himself and began to pump. The sight of her long fingers slipping in and out of her pussy mesmerized him. Her hand was wet; covered with her own moisture.

“Let me taste you.” His voice was scratchy and rough. “Put your fingers in my mouth.”

She did, gingerly slipping first one, then the other, into his mouth. He sucked on her fingers, aroused by the salty and sweet taste of her juices on his tongue.

He stopped jerking himself off and moved over her. He cupped one of her breasts in his hand and moved the other between her legs. He slipped several fingers inside her and began to move, sliding in and out of her. She was dripping wet; he could smell her arousal and it made him so very hard. 

She bit her lip and closed her eyes. He watched her body flush, starting from below her breasts and moving up to her face. She was going to come for him. For the very first time, he would get to see what she looked like when this happened for her. He’d imagined it hundreds of times, late at night in a darkened room.

“It’s happening. This is finally happening.” Her voice was high and breathy. “Jug. Juggie.”

She smelled so good; her pussy was dripping wet on his hand. “I want to suck you. I want to lick your pussy, Betty. You smell so good.” 

“Ugh!” She thrust her hips upwards, jerking his entire arm as she came. He felt her inner muscles pulse around his fingers. He kept moving within her, working her as she rode out second after second of her orgasm.

Jughead’s cock throbbed with desire. He needed to be inside her. “Let me put my dick in you,” he said brokenly. “Just a little. Just for a second.”

“I want to come again. That was so good.” She smiled at him, her face glowing.

“Just let me inside you for a minute. For just a second. One second, Betty, I swear.” 

She moved underneath him so that her pussy was wide open and ready for him. All he had to do was thrust into her. He wanted to roughly shove inside her; he was so hard and so desperate and he needed her so badly.

Instead, he gently parted her legs. The insides of her thighs were damp. He felt her moisture as he slid the tip of himself between the soft, pink lips of her pussy.

She was hot and wet and he cried out with the sensation of it.

“Move in me.” Betty clenched her hand on his arm. “Give me more of you.”

He sank forward very gently, afraid to hurt her. She was a virgin; this must not feel very good to her. 

“Move back and forth.” Her breath hitched. “I think...I think I’m going to come from this, Juggie.”

He should pull out. If she came with his dick inside her, he would cum, too. There was no way he had enough control to stop in time.

“Make me come and then cum on my belly.” She looked up at him. “Please, please make me come again.” Her face was flushed and sweaty and he wanted her so much.

He cupped his hand around her neck and thrust. He slid all the way in, all of him inside her.

“Like that, yes, like that.” She closed her eyes and bit her lip. “God, yes, Juggie.”

The feeling was exhilarating. It was better than anything he’d ever done before by himself. Jacking off felt good; this was entirely different.

He was making love to Betty Cooper. His ex-girlfriend, who had recently been cutting herself. He was inside her, all the way now, fucking her raw, with nothing between then. No condom, no nothing. It was the most stupid decision he’d ever made. 

He was the happiest he’d ever been. He needed to make her come, soon, because he was about to cum inside her.

“Need you to come,” he managed to whisper. “I’m going to cum.”

“Don’t stop fucking me. Please keep fucking me.” She curled her leg over his hip, bringing him deeper inside her. “Don’t stop. God, don’t stop now.”

She dug her fingernails into his shoulder and gasped, and his control completely snapped. They came at the same time, in a glorious explosion of pleasure. His hand was gripping her neck; her nails were embedded in his shoulders.

Jughead was breathing hard, his mind blown. This was better than anything. Why did people ever do anything else with their time? All he wanted to do for the rest of his life was to have sex with Betty Cooper.

He began to soften and moved to slide out of her. She stopped him, her hand clutching his ass. “Stay inside me.”

“But we’re done.” He was confused.

“I’m not done, Jug. I need your dick inside me. Something is happening.” She panted and licked her lips. “Please, fuck me.”

God, she was still talking dirty to him and it was so hot. He began to thrust again, not sure what was going on.

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing. “Fuck me harder. Fuck me harder. Fuck me.”

Jughead’s pulse picked up. She sounded so desperate; she needed him. She wanted him. “Take me. Take me, Betty.” He was getting harder with every thrust. His lust was feeding off hers. Together they were enveloped in a haze of need and want.

“Spank me. Slap my ass.” She spoke in breathy little pants. It was so, so hot.

Jughead grabbed her hip and shifted the angle, giving him more access. He slapped her right cheek with a large smacking sound.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He could feel her get even wetter. Her pussy throbbed around him. “Make me hurt.” 

He did it again, and her pussy spasmed. “You’re going to make me cum again, Betty. I’m going to blow my load into your tight little pussy. You’re so fucking tight.”

He spanked her, his pace growing more erratic as he grew closer to his own orgasm. She came, her hand fisted in his hair, hurting him in a way that sent him over the edge.

Jughead swiftly pulled out of her and with a grunt, he spurted hot cum all over her belly. It was incredibly erotic: Betty’s creamy, flat stomach was covered with his jizz. It made him want to fuck her all over again. It was an incredible turn on, a sexual memory that was instantly burned into his brain.

Betty reached down her hand and swiped some of his cum onto her fingers. She sucked her fingers, one by one, into her mouth. “I like the way we taste.”

He’d come twice; he wanted to fuck her again. “I want to suck on your pussy.” He pushed her thighs apart and stuck his tongue inside her. She tasted salty and musky; he knew that he tasted his own cum inside her, too. It was a huge turn on, that he’d been inside the most private part of her.

He wasn’t sure what she liked, so he listened carefully. Tentative little licks on her lips brought small moans; gentle swipes all the way up and down her outer, then inner, lips rewarded him with her nails in his shoulders. Fucking her deeply with his tongue earned him her leg thrown over her shoulder and a quivering, begging Betty Cooper underneath him.

“Don’t stop.” She held a fistful of his hair in her hand. “Fuck me with your tongue. Fuck me with your mouth.”

He slapped her ass, the inside of her thigh, as he moved more furiously. She came with a scream, his mouth filling with salty fluid. She’d cum in his mouth! He didn’t even know girls could do that. My God, there was so much he didn’t know.

“I need to fuck you now.” He grabbed his cock in his hand and impatiently shoved inside her.

She gasped. “Oh, that stings.”

She’d just lost her virginity and they’d had sex again after that. She was sore; he was being too rough with her. He was being selfish; he should stop. It didn’t seem possible to stop.

“Can’t stop.” He pulled on her waist, bringing him deeper inside her. “I’m so fucking hard. Feel how hard you make me.”

“I’m too tired to come again. I can’t.” She closed her eyes, her long eyelashes dark against her pink skin.

“Look at me. Look at me. Betty.”

She looked up at him. Her face was flushed; her eyes were alive. The robotic, flat expression was gone. “Jug.”

“I love you, Betty. I’m so in love with you.”

She smiled up at him, her face radiant. “Juggie.”

“You have my heart, my body, my soul. All of me. Everything.”

She wrapped her leg around his waist. “I love you so much.”

“Come with me. Please.”

She rubbed her clit as he pumped within her. Gratifyingly, she did come once again before he lost control. He came within her body, relishing in the feeling of her tight muscles all around his hard length.

Jughead pulled out of her and rolled away from her on the bed, gasping. He looked down and noticed smears of blood and cum on his cock. He turned to look between Betty’s thighs. There were streaks of blood and cum on her thighs, too.

“I’m sorry I was so rough with you. My God, I’m such as asshole.” His elation turned to self-loathing. He grabbed a few Kleenex from the box next to the bed and cleaned her up. He did the same to himself.

“Let’s take another shower,” she suggested. “We’re both very messy.”

So back into the shower they went. She poured a handful of shampoo into her hand and massaged it into his head. Her fingers gently dug into his scalp. “That feels good.”

“I like making you feel good.” Her breasts rubbed against his chest as she washed his hair. “I want to take care of you, Jug.”

His cock throbbed. He looked down at his penis. Impossibly, it was bobbing to life once again. “You turn me on so much, Betty. My dick has a mind of its own. I know you don’t want to have sex with me anymore. I’m sure you’re sore.”

She smiled up at him. “I am so raw between my legs. It stings when the water hits me.” She turned to show him her ass. She had a pink handprint on her right cheek. “My ass stings too.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not. I loved it.” She smiled up at him. “I didn’t know I wanted it until you did it. But I need it. I like it when you hurt me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” It seemed like a horrible thing to do to the girl you loved. He was ashamed that he’d raised a hand to her in the first place. Decent men didn’t treat women that way.

“It’s not the first time you’ve hurt me,” she said quietly. “You’ve been doing it for weeks. Pushing me away, breaking things off, not returning my calls. Letting some other girl spend the night with you here.”

He looked down at her. “You know about that?” 

“Oh, I know. Multiple people went out of their way to make sure I heard about it.” Betty wrapped her hand around his shaft and started to pump. “I know why nothing happened. You wanted me. My mouth; my hands; my pussy.”

“I want all of you, Betty,” he whispered, and he meant it with all his heart.

She stroked him. “Do you know what I found out today, Jug?”

“Tell me.” It was hard to concentrate with her hand on his dick.

“You’re broken without me, too.”

“I am,” he admitted. “Very. A total fucking disaster of a human being.”

“You’ve been lonely too, all these long nights without each other.”

“Very. So lonely.”

“I stay up most nights until two or three or even four.” Her hand was barely moving, flicking up and down his shaft. “I lie there with my vibrator, all eight inches inside me, twisting the vibration up as far as it goes. I think about fucking you, riding you, you taking me hard from behind. “

The mental images were striking. “Jesus, Betty.” His dick twitched, just thinking about it.

“I want to deep throat your cock and swallow your cum. I practiced, late at night, in my room. Sucking on my middle finger, pretending it was your cock in my mouth.”

She sank to her knees in the shower and sucked him into her mouth. She was very careful, with just a graze of teeth here and there that made Jughead wince. After a few minutes she relaxed and he could feel her sucking in his entire length, all of him, balls deep.

He resisted the urge to thrust into her mouth. “This is so good, Betty. You’re doing so well.” He cupped her head in his hand and felt her sodden hair under his fingers.

She looked up at him, her mouth stretched wide around his cock. She reached up one hand and splayed it across his abdomen. She began to move her head back and forth. He felt the tip of his cock press against the soft, yielding tissue of her throat. It was all too much, too overwhelming

He bit his lower lip and gasped. “I’m going to come. Oh God, Betty.”

She pulled away from him and and he came, his cum splattering across the skin at the base of her throat, her shoulder, and her hair. “Ah, that’s so good. So good, Betty.” 

She rose to her feet and smiled at him. “I’m glad you liked it.” She looked so beautiful, with a trail of his cum across her skin. He liked seeing it; he wanted to cum on her stomach again. He wanted to fuck her again. He was, he realized, obsessed with the idea of being inside her again. And before that happened, they needed to stop letting themselves get carried away.

“We should finish cleaning up and get dressed,” Jughead suggested. “At the very least, we need to go to the drugstore and pick up some Plan B. This has been a night of very unexpected events. I don’t want to add any more surprises to the list.”

She turned away from him and massaged shampoo into her hair. “I’ve been on the pill since August. As soon as I came back from my internship, I told my mom that I wanted to start taking it.”

His brain mulled over that date. “Since August?”

She turned to face him and rinsed her hair out in the stream of water. When she was done, she looked up at him, a sharp look in her eyes. “I had it all planned out, my first time with Archie. I bought a petal pink negligee. I chose the music, an Indigo Girls song. I bought condoms and lube and watched a ton of videos on Redtube, so that I had some idea what to do. I circled the date on my calendar for September; my mom and dad were going to be out of town. It was just going to be me and the boy I loved, spending the night fucking and sucking each other in my big, white bed.”

He felt like she’d slapped him. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you hurt me!” Betty said, her voice sharp. “Not just once; over and over. I wanted to know if I even could hurt you! I’ve spent all these nights crying, miserable, trying to figure out how to get you back. And you? You act like you don’t give a fuck. You act like I’m invisible. You can’t see me, anymore. I’m just a ghost to you, now. I might as well be dead.”

She turned around and left the shower, slamming the glass door behind her.

Jughead was stunned. What the hell? She’d gone from nearly comatose to ardently sexual to furiously angry. Her mood was shifting so rapidly that he couldn’t keep up.

By the time Jughead caught up with her, she had her shirt and skirt on, her cardigan thrown over her arm. She was unlocking the living room door when he grabbed her arm.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

She jerked away from him. “I’m leaving!”

“No, you’re not!” Jughead pulled her over to the sofa and she fell back onto it, looking up at him with surprised eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you, Betty?”

“I’m crazy!” she yelled. “I’m out of my fucking mind, Jughead! In case you failed to notice, I’m a basket case!”

And as he watched, her mood shifted again, back to a blank face and a vulnerable mien.

Jughead sighed and sat down next to her. He was completely nude; she was fully dressed. He’d never felt so vulnerable in his life. He picked up a throw pillow and covered his crotch.

“I cut Penny Peabody with a switchblade,” he said softly. “I very methodically cut off the skin from pretty much her entire forearm.”

Betty blinked. “You did what?”

“You heard me.” Jughead licked his lips. “Guess what? I liked it. It was actually very enjoyable.” He met her eyes and held her gaze. “So, I’m crazy too. I’m just as fucked up as you, maybe more.”

“I tried to drown Chuck Clayton in Ethel’s Jacuzzi,” Betty offered.

That was vaguely familiar. “Is that what he was talking about at my birthday party?” 

“Yep. It’s true. I dressed up in trashy black lingerie, and a black wig, and I pretty much seduced Chuck Clayton and then tried to drown him.”

“But you didn’t. Chuck, sad to say, is still kicking.” Jughead took a deep breath. “I disfigured a woman. She’s walking around with a big fucking scar on her arm because of me.”

“I’m sure you had a reason,” Betty said promptly.

Jughead smiled. Betty always found a way to defend him, even when he didn’t deserve it. 

“I had an excuse to do it,” said Jughead. “It’s the fact that I thought it was fun that I have a problem with. That’s not normal. That’s psychotic.”

“Do you want to hurt people?” she asked. “Do you enjoy it?”

“I like hurting you, so much. I know that is very fucked up.” Jughead ran his thumb across her jaw. “I like the sound that my hand makes when it slaps against your skin. I like watching your pale skin turn pink, then red. I want to bite you until you have purple bruises on your skin. I want to leave my mark on you.”

“When you hurt me, it makes me feel alive.” She pulled up her skirt, showing him the lines on her thighs. “It feels so much better than when I cut myself, when you hurt me.”

“If I promise to hurt you instead, do you promise to stop cutting yourself?” Jughead asked. It seemed like a terrible thing to do, but wasn’t it better than letting her cut herself?

She bit her lip. “I can’t be with you all the time. Sometimes I need it. Sometimes I hide in the bathroom at school with my little razor blade. I hold my breath and slice, quick as I can without making a noise.” Her face was flushed; Jughead was pretty sure was aroused.

“Does it turn you on when you cut yourself?” Obviously it did. At the thought of it, her nipples were peaked against her shirt.

“If I cut myself I’m not allowed to touch myself that night,” she whispered. “I have rules, to try to keep it from getting out of hand.”

He pushed up her skirt. “Spread your legs open, Betty.” Her pretty little lips were swollen from all the sex. He watched, as she grew wet again.

“Tell me about your rules.” His dick was growing hard again, too. He’d gotten an erection five times in the last couple of hours. He was going to have a heart attack.

“I need to be a good girl,” Betty said. “Homework done. Chores done. I’m supposed to get in my bed in nice clean pajamas and go to sleep. I’m not supposed to touch myself; it’s not nice.” 

“But you do.” He knew that; he vividly remembered that confession of Betty’s, that she lay there night after night with eight inches of vibrator stuffed inside her delicate little pussy.

“I pull back my sheets and I pull the razor blade from my drawer,” she said dreamily. Her eyes were out of focus. “I run it down my chest, over my breasts, under my ribs. Sometimes I nick myself there.”

“Show me.”

She unbuttoned the shirt and showed him. There were six little marks, some now scars, on her ribs below her breast. “Sometimes that’s enough. Sometimes I feel the pressure, the sting. Sometimes I wipe the blood on my finger and lick it off.”

The entire scenario was obviously very self-destructive for Betty, even though it was completely turning on Jughead to hear it. “Give me your razor blade. You’re not allowed to have them any more.”

“I have more than one. One is in my bag that I carry around. I have another one in my bedside table at home.” 

“I’m going to come get it tomorrow night.” He ran his fingernail along one of her scars, hard enough for her to gasp. “I’m going to come take that razor blade and I’m going to fuck you, Betty, on your nice clean sheets.”

“My parents will hear us,” she said. “We can’t do that.” But the idea made her eyes bright and her skin flushed.

“You’re going to have to be so quiet. Very quiet.” Jughead leaned forward and lapped at her hard little nipple. “But you said that you have another razor blade. You said that you use it to cut yourself at school. I want you to give it to me, now.”

“I don’t want to give it to you,” she admitted. “I need it.”

“Roll onto your stomach.” He slapped her thigh for emphasis. “Now.”

She gave him a dubious look.

“Roll onto your stomach, now, Betty.” He made his voice hard. “Or I will go get my belt.”

She made a sexy little gasping sound. Jughead gulped, thinking about slapping her ass with the thick leather. He really was a deviant; his cock throbbed at the thought of it.

Betty rolled onto her stomach on the couch. He pulled up her skirt, showing her ass. His handprint still marred one cheek.

“Lift up your ass in the air, Betty,” he said quietly. She looked so pretty, exposed to him this way.

She scooted up on her knees, bringing her ass higher.

He knelt down behind her. “I want your razor blade, Betty.” He slapped the red handprint and her body jerked.

“No,” she said in a small voice. “I need it.”

“Are you refusing my request?” Jughead leaned forward and sucked the tender skin of her ass cheek into his mouth. He heard her sigh as he sucked it more and more forcefully, hard enough to bruise.

“I need it to hurt myself,” she said in a small voice.

He applied his teeth to her skin, harder and harder until she moaned. “Why do you need to hurt yourself, Betty? Why can’t you just let me hurt you, like I’m doing now?”

“To keep my mind clear,” she said raggedly. “To focus. To feel like a person.”

He slapped her ass again, hard, and her body jerked. She made a sound that was half gasp, half whimper. Jughead saw that her pretty, pouty pussy lips were damp.

“Do you want me to make you come?” he asked, his voice smooth.

“Yes. Yes, please.” Her voice was shaking, full of need.

“Then get me your razor. Now.” He slapped her ass again and she squealed.

Jughead was breathing hard. His dick was so hard against his belly. He loved disciplining Betty, loved being in charge.

She handed him her backpack, her hands shaking. “It’s in the zippered pocket in the front. It’s in the little pink pencil bag.”

Jughead opened the zipper and pulled out a razor blade. It was encased in a bright pink plastic handle and had a clear safety cap. He set it on the coffee table. Also in the bag was a little metal bullet vibrator. “What have we here, Miss Cooper?" Jughead picked it up and looked at it. 

“Please give me that.” Betty tried to grab it out of his hand.

“Did you just try to grab this away from me?” He slapped her thigh. “So naughty. Lie down on your back and spread your legs.” 

She did, lying on her back and spreading her knees wide. He wanted to lean forward and bury his face between her thighs. But she wasn’t ready for that, yet. She wasn’t wet enough.

He found the control mechanism for the vibrator and turned it on. It began to vibrate in his hand, but made no sound. “Tell me about this, Betty.” He ran it across her knee and she shuddered. 

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Her eyes were closed, her voice barely audible.

“It’s in your school bag,” he said. “Do you use this at school?”

“Sometimes,” she said, her voice very low.

He ran it over her thigh. She gasped and involuntarily thrust her hips. Her nipples were hard, her thighs wet.

“Tell me about when you play with this toy, Betty.” Just the thought of it made him so hot.

“Sometimes when I cut myself, it doesn’t give me enough release. So I need that too.”

“So that’s why they are together? You need both things?”

A tiny little nod indicated he was correct.

“How long has this been going on? The cutting, the little vibrator?” He suspected he knew the answer.

“Since I broke up with you the first time.”

That’s what Jughead had thought. After that, everything had begun to slide out of control, for both of them. No wonder Betty was trying to seize control of something, anything.

He ran the vibrator up to her pussy. "Where does this go? Inside? Outside?”

“Just on my clit.” He gently made a single pass across her clit with it and she moaned. “Please.” 

“What do you want. Betty?” He picked up the razor off the table and set it on her stomach. “Do you want the razor on your skin? Or the vibrator on your clit? Or do you want this?” He slapped his erection against her thigh. The smell of her arousal was making it hard for him to think straight. “Tell me, now. Decide now.”

“All of them.” She opened up her eyes and they were cloudy with desire. “Oh my God, all three. Please.”

He picked up the razor and made a small, light cut just under her left breast. She immediately moaned and thrust her pelvis upwards. He bent down and licked along the line of the cut, lapping at her blood. It was salty on his tongue; slick. It turned him on, just as the taste of her pussy did. This was something he wanted to do again with her; he loved everything about this. He sucked on the cut as she moaned. He moved the tiny vibrator to her clit and rubbed it against her in a slow circle. 

“Yes, please, yes.” She was completely losing her mind, writhing underneath him.

Her lack of control was driving him crazy. “I need to fuck you now. I’m going to fuck you, Betty.”

Jughead tossed the razor and the vibrator onto the table. He knelt between her legs, grabbed her knee to open her wide and thrust himself between her thighs. 

She moaned and clawed at his back. ”Juggie.”

“I have your blood in my mouth, have your taste on my tongue. I love it. I love everything about you.”

She thrust upwards to meet each of his thrusts, her nails biting into his back. “I need you.”

“You need me to fuck you, don’t you? You need me to own you.” He bit her shoulder, relishing the feel of her skin between his teeth. 

“Oh, that hurts.” Betty cried out. “So good. This hurts. Your cock is making me sting and burn and I’m so sore, my God, I’m so sore. Everything between my legs feels like it is on fire. But if you stop I’ll die.”

“Just a little more for now,” he said, fucking her hard in deep, even thrusts. “I’m going to let you rest, let you cool down. This is the last time tonight; I promise. Your sweet little pussy needs to get some rest. Tomorrow night I’m going to sneak into your room and tie you to the bed. I’m going to plow you so hard, Betty Cooper. I’m going to fuck you raw. I’m going to make you come so hard, and you’re not allowed to make a sound. Not one. Or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck!” Betty gripped his shoulder. “Fuck me, fuck me, I’m dying. God, I’m dying.” She cried out, her scream high and sharp.

She wasn’t dying; she was coming, her inner muscles clenched around his dick. That triggered Jughead’s own orgasm. He needed to spatter her sweet little belly with his cum. “Jesus, Betty.” He gritted his teeth and pulled out, spilling all over her heaving stomach.

Betty panted, her face flushed. “I wasn’t done, Juggie. Fuck me with your fingers while I clean this mess up.” She scooped up the cum from her stomach. She licked her fingers, her eyes locked on his. 

“You said you were so sore you couldn’t take it anymore,” he protested. 

“I need to come again. You pulled out before I was done.” She gave him a sharp look, clearly annoyed by his presumption.

He couldn’t leave his Betty disappointed. So he fucked her, hard, with his fingers while she slowly and methodically wiped all his cum off her belly and licked it off her fingers.

“I never imagined we’d do anything like this.” Jughead was four fingers deep into her soaking wet pussy, working her hard. She had his cum dripping down the side of her hand.

“This is what I think about, alone in my room.” Betty looked up at him and licked the last vestiges of his orgasm off her fingers. “How many different ways I need you. All the ways I want you to take me.”

“I never even imagined this,” he admitted. “This is beyond the scope of my imagination.”

“Bite my nipple while you work me with your fingers.” She gave him a pleading look. “Please? I need to come and I need your mouth on me, too.”

“I can fuck you with my fingers and my mouth,” he offered.

She gave him a devastating smile. “Do it hard. Do it rough.”

So he did, working her with his fingers while sucking her clit. She was close, so close. He moved his mouth and bit the inside of her thigh. “Jughead. Juggie.” She was ripping his hair out and screaming his name as she came. He smiled against her thigh. He knew what she needed, now. He knew how to keep her happy.

They were, once again, a disheveled and sticky mess. He was spattered with her juices and his cum. The silver trails of his ejaculation shone on her belly; a dried smear of blood showed on her rib. Her skirt and her shirt were both tragically wrinkled.

She leaned her head back against the pillow. “I need to just rest now, Juggie.” He watched as she fell asleep. She was smiling, rosy pink, her blonde hair a tangled mess on the throw pillow.

He let her sleep for a few minutes, watching her. He would never be able to sit on this couch again without thinking of fucking her here. He still thought about having his hand up her skirt every time he made a bowl of cereal in the kitchen.

When she was deeply asleep, he carried her into the bedroom of the trailer. He set her down on his bed and pulled the covers over her.

He grabbed his cell phone and called his dad. “Find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

FP laughed. “About damn time. You being safe?”

In no way, shape or form was anything they had done safe. “Of course, Dad.”

“See you in the morning, boy.”

His second phone call was a little more challenging. “Hey Veronica. I need a little favor,” he asked, keeping his voice light. 

“You’re not currently at the top of my ‘people to do favors for’ list,” Veronica replied, her voice a little sharp. “Since you broke my girl Betty’s heart into bitty little pieces, you’ve fallen way down to the bottom. Like, rock bottom, Jug.”

Jughead knew he deserved every bit of Veronica’s anger. “Well, it may interest you to know that I have a very naked Betty Cooper in my bed, happily sleeping. This took a considerable amount of effort on my part and I would rather stick a fork in my eye than disturb her. Can you call Alice Cooper and tell her that Betty is spending the night at your place?”

“Are you joking?” Veronica asked.

Jughead took a picture of a peacefully sleeping Betty, close up on her face, and sent it to Veronica.

“She looks like an angel!” Veronica said. “Awww. Nice work, pal!”

“Glad you approve.” Jughead scratched his head. “So will you help me out, please? I think a little post-coital snuggling and breakfast in bed tomorrow morning could go a long way to patching thing up with Betty permanently.”

“I’m on it,” said Veronica happily. “Have no fear, I will assist you with Operation Sleeping Beauty. I’m glad you’re back together. Don’t fuck it up.”

“I will try very hard not too,” he assured her.

A few minutes later Betty’s phone buzzed in the living room. It was Alice Cooper calling, of course. He sent the sleeping Betty photo to her mom with a text. “Betty’s already fast asleep! Too much sleepover fun for her! So cute!” He added an assortment of happy face and heart emoji’s that seemed Veronica-esque.

The text back from Alice was almost immediate. “Awww! She hasn’t been sleeping well. Looks like your comfy bed has worked miracles, Veronica!”

Jughead chuckled. He turned out the light and slid under the covers with Betty. She rolled towards him in her sleep and he held her close.

“Love you,” she murmured.

He gently kissed her lips and she sighed, her breath mingling with his. “Love you more, Betts.” He pulled her close and pressed his face to her neck. He fell asleep cuddled with the woman he adored, surrounded by the sweet smell of Miss Dior.


	2. Switchblade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more plot with your porn. Enjoy.

The trailer park was never truly quiet. Jughead had become accustomed to the sound of traffic, of barking dogs, of blaring televisions and muffled arguments. But in the middle of the night, a strange noise woke up Jughead. It took him a second to remember where he was: in his bed with Betty. She was the one making the noise.

Betty was having a nightmare. Small, broken gasps were coming from her throat. “No, no! Don’t!”

Jughead put his hand on her shoulder and gently shook her. “Betty.”

She woke up with a startled gasp, sitting upright. “What?”

He rubbed her back. “Betts, you’re with me. Everything is fine.”

She looked down at him, confused. “I thought it was a dream.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I’m here. That’s not a dream.”

She sighed and snuggled into his embrace. “Oh, Juggie.”

He gently kissed her forehead. “Go back to sleep. Your mom thinks you are at Veronica’s. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

They both settled back into sleep.

When Jughead woke up again, it was dawn. The room was filled with the orange sunlight of a new day. Betty was running her fingers through his hair, smiling at him. Her hair was back-lit by sunlight, surrounding her face with a halo of gold.

“Has anyone told you that you are exquisitely beautiful, Betty Cooper?” She was just so stunning, this girl that he loved.

Her smile deepened and she covered his mouth with hers. Her breath was clean and minty; she must have just brushed her teeth.

He broke the kiss. “I’m sure I have terrible morning breath.”

She licked his ear. “You taste just fine to me.”

He rolled over on top of her and kissed her. She opened her mouth to him, asking for deeper, harder kisses. Her hands slid down his back, cupping his ass.

“Good morning, my love.” He slid his hand between her legs. She was already becoming damp. “Are you interested in some sex to start off the day?”

She laughed. “Yes, please.”

He grinned and kissed her again. She threw her arms around his neck, holding him close to her.

They kissed ardently, with lingering tongues and eager mouths. Betty began to gasp and moan between kisses and Jughead’s fingers grew more slippery as he worked between her legs.

Jughead had woken up hard, as usual. The notion of being able to do something about it was intriguing. The last time Betty had spent the night with him, the mood between them had been very different. He’d love to wake up like this every morning: with a smiling, naked Betty.

Last night he’d been filled with a manic sexual intensity. He’d wanted to take Betty, over and over. This morning he just wanted to watch her face, see what she looked like being pleasured in this beautiful golden light.

“Are you ready for me?” Jughead knew she was; she was soaking wet. He licked the base of her throat and bit her gently there.

In response, Betty put her hand around his dick and guided him into her body.

They both gasped as their bodies moved together. He was reminded of how raw and sore she’d been last night. ”And I hurting you?” he asked.

She bit her lip and thrust upwards. “Jug.”

He met her thrust and moved his mouth to her collarbone. “My beautiful Betty.”

He licked her and bit her along the length of her shoulder. She was very aroused, gasping and panting as they made love. He didn’t feel any sense of urgency to come. In fact, he wanted to make this last as long as he could, just stroking away inside her body. He wanted to see how many times he could make her come before he lost control. He wanted to get her to that calm, peaceful place that she’d achieved after all their time in bed last night.

“I love you.” He smoothed her hair away from her face. “I love you so much.”

She nodded and bit her lip. “Jug.”

He reached between them and rubbed on her clit the way that he’d done yesterday when he’d gone down on her. He wanted to please her. Making her happy made him happy, too.

She threw her leg over his and surged upwards. “God, yes.”

Jughead was able to keep thrusting inside her and rub her clit and make her come, over and over. She didn’t like it back to back; she needed a small break in between, sometimes minutes, sometimes seconds, before she wanted more. Every minute he was learning more about what to do, what she liked.

Jughead completely lost track of time and also lost track of how many orgasms Betty had. He was sweating and shuddering with the effort to give her what she needed, again and again, and not just take what he wanted. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Her face was sweaty and flushed and beautiful. “I want you to come with me now.”

He kissed her, licking gently inside her mouth while he left behind the languid thrusts and teasing strokes and began to hammer into her. It was intense and he wasn’t going to last long, now. “I love fucking you,” he muttered. “I love being inside you.”

“Be rough with me now,” she said raggedly. “I need it.”

He closed his teeth on her shoulder as he began to lose control of himself. She gasped in pain and it made him even more aroused, so he began to suck on her neck, hard, as he pounded inside her.

“God yes.” Her nails bit into his shoulder. “Just like that. Fuck me just like that.”

He felt his orgasm coming before it actually hit. It went on for longer than he’d imagined possible. It wasn’t just a burst of pleasure from his dick; his whole body felt a wave of release. It lasted long enough for him to wonder if this was Betty felt, too, when she came.

He pulled away from her and cleaned them both off with tissues. They were lying together, gasping, when Jughead’s phone beeped.

It was a text from Veronica: _  
_

_Betty’s mom is coming to pick her up here at ten. This is your two-hour warning to get cleaned up and get your girl back to the Pembrooke. BTW, a special delivery from Le Patisserie is coming at nine, Jug. I wasn’t sure you could pull off breakfast in bed, so I gave you an assist. DON’T FUCK THIS UP!!!!  
_

Jughead laughed. “I think Veronica is just as happy that we’re back together as we are.”

Betty leaned over and kissed him. “No one is as happy as I am right now, Jug.”

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “Last night was the best night of my life, Betty.” He meant every word. “I love you so much.”

Sweet kisses turned into another session of steamy sex. Jughead could not get enough of her; Betty seemed just as into it as he was. The notion that in two hours he’d have to part from her seemed cruel and impossible.

They’d just finished again when there was a knock on the door. Jughead looked at his phone: nine am on the dot. It must be Veronica’s delivery.

He kissed Betty. “Get comfortable, sweetheart. I have a special surprise for you.”

Betty wiggled her eyebrows. “I thought you already gave me a special surprise.”

Jughead chuckled. “This one is of the non-sexual variety.”

She laughed. “Then it won’t be as fun.”

Jughead pulled on his bathrobe, gave her another quick kiss and went to see what Veronica’s idea of breakfast in bed was.

There was a guy at the door in a doorman outfit, carrying a large covered tray and a garment bag. “Mr. Jones, delivery for you from Miss Lodge.” He handed over the bag and the tray and gave a little salute. “No tip necessary, sir. I have been well compensated already.”

“Well, thanks,” Jughead said awkwardly. “Have a great morning.”

Jughead carried everything back into the trailer, set down the tray on the kitchen table and unzipped the bag. It was an outfit for Betty, right down to a little plastic bag with a bra and underwear. Veronica Lodge thought of everything.

He took the lid off the tray. It was a beautiful breakfast: French toast with butter and syrup with both bacon and sausage links. There was a separate small bowl of fruit salad and little sealed cups of orange juice and milk. A small floral arrangement of pink roses and baby’s breath filled a tiny vase.

Next to the plate was a small pink bakery box labeled “FOR JJ.” He opened it up to find three maple crullers, his favorite donut.

Jughead’s fondness for Veronica doubled at that moment. She was such a good friend to Betty- and him.

He carried the tray into the bedroom. “Your best friend is amazing,” he declared.

Betty was propped up against the pillows, the sheet barely covering her breasts. Her hair was a tangled mess and she looked flushed and gorgeous.

Jughead carefully placed the tray down on the bed.

Betty looked down at the tray and then up at him with a grin. “Breakfast in bed! That is so sweet.”

“Courtesy of Veronica Lodge and her well-dressed minions.” Jughead grabbed the box of donuts and sprawled across the bed. “We’ll have to do something nice to thank her for this.”

“Are those maple crullers?” Betty laughed. “How did she know those are your favorites?”

“Maybe Archie mentioned it?” Jughead shrugged. He was just happy to be eating donuts.

They ate their breakfast and Jughead took the empty tray to the kitchen. “Babe, do you want some coffee?” he called out, turning on the coffeemaker.

“Yes, please. I’m going to jump in the shower.”

Jughead had nearly forgotten. He grabbed the garment bag and carried into the bedroom. “Veronica sent this over, too.”

Betty pulled out the clothes and frowned. “Jug, these are my clothes. How did Veronica get an outfit for me?”

“Your mom has kept a spare key to your house in that same fake rock for our entire lives,” Jughead pointed out.

“But Veronica doesn’t know about it.”

“I would guess that while we were together last night, Veronica and Archie did a little breaking and entering to make this romantic morning possible.”

“We have very good friends.” Betty smiled fondly.

“We do,” Jughead agreed. They had their differences, but at the end of the day, they really cared about each other.

Betty gave him a lingering kiss. “I’m going to get cleaned up now.”

Jughead took her hand. “Before you do, there was something I wanted to ask you about.” He was nearly afraid to ask, to somehow ruin the wonderful time that they were having. But it seemed important. “Why did you come here last night?” He ran his thumb over her fingers. “I’m very glad that you did, but what happened?”

Betty dropped his hand and Jughead was instantly sorry he’d said anything. “I had a really nice date with Trevor.” She leaned against the wall, wearing only his towel. “He was cute and funny and we had a nice time. We went bowling over in Greendale. It was a fun night.”

“Okay.” Betty had just spent the night with Jughead; he didn't want to hear about her great date with another guy.

“Then he took me home and he kissed me goodnight and....” Betty shrugged. “And it just ruined everything.” She licked her lips. “I don’t want someone else, even a nice person like Trevor. I wanted you; I missed you. And it hurt, all over again, that you wouldn’t be with me. I wondered if you’d ever really loved me at all or if it had all been a lie.”

“I do love you,” Jughead said immediately. “I meant what I said and that never changed. Never, Betty."

“Then why did you push me away?” Betty asked the question so softly as if even forming the words hurt.

Jughead wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him hard, her arms around his waist. “I pushed you away because I was trying to do the right thing. But it wasn’t, obviously. I hurt you deeply and I am so, so sorry for that.” He held her tight. “I fucked up so bad and I hope you can forgive me. I’ll try to make it up to you.” He had so much work to do to repair their relationship. He was well aware that one good night together wouldn’t be enough to fix the damage their separation had caused.

“I forgive you.” Betty pulled his face down to hers and kissed him, her mouth so sweet and cold. She tasted like fresh squeezed orange juice. “I love you.”

“I love you so much, too. We will have to figure out how to deal with some of these issues that caused our breakup,” said Jughead earnestly. “But I know we will. We just need to be honest with each other. And the first thing I want you to be honest with me about is your cutting. I want you to promise me that you won’t do it anymore.”

Betty looked up at him and bit her lower lip.

Jughead gently tapped her lip with his finger. “No biting, either. No nails in your palms. Nothing. If you need the pain, I will give you the pain.”

“What if you’re not there?” Betty asked. “It’s been the only way that I can manage to get through the day at school.”

“But now I’ll be there,” Jughead reminded her. “Three classes a day we’ll be together. Lunch. After school at the _Blue and Gold_. I’ll spend as much time with you as I can, Betty.”

Betty let out a deep breath. “I would like that, Juggie. So very much.”

He kissed her forehead. “You don’t have to deal with your darkness by yourself anymore. I’m sharing it with you now.”

“Don’t you think I’m really weird, for having such bizarre thoughts?” Her eyes were dark and worried. “For enjoying all this... twisted stuff?”

“I’m so proud of you for opening up to me and being honest with me; it let me do the same with you.” He kissed her, sweet and long and then slapped her ass. She startled and gave a small giggle. “Now, go get cleaned up. You need to meet Veronica in an hour.”

While Betty showered, Jughead drank a cup of coffee and pondered the night they had spent together. This changed everything. They were back together but they needed to stay together. He hadn’t been worthy of her; he’d put his own bullshit first. He needed to put Betty Cooper at the top of his priority list if he was going to make things work this time around.

He grabbed his spiral notebook from his messenger bag. He’d heard of some of these things he and Betty had explored last night, vaguely. But understanding what Betty needed was the key to making things work with her. He wanted to get it right this time. So he wrote a quick list of topics:

  * Self-harm (fingernails; cutting; biting)
  * Roleplay (wig/lingerie?)
  * S&M (she likes being hurt/I like hurting her)
  * Cutting (kink)/Blood (kink)
  * Dom/sub?



When Betty was done in the shower, she came out to the kitchen. Fully dressed in her clean outfit, she looked as calm and collected as always. He watched as she pulled a makeup pouch from her bag, sat down at the table, and began to line up little plastic tubes and containers in front of her.

It was hard to imagine that this was the same girl who’d writhed under him last night for hours, her hair tangled from all of their fucking. Jughead was filled with the desire to pull off her sweater, muss her hair and make her his all over again.

She met his eyes and smiled. “May I have some coffee, Jug?”

Jughead had completely spaced out, staring at her. “Sure. Of course.” He made her a cup of coffee just the way she liked it and set it down next to her.

She smiled up at him. “Thanks, Juggie. You should go get cleaned up, too.”

In the shower, Jughead grew hard again just thinking about the last time he’d been in there. She’d gone down on him, right here. He’d loved everything about it: her mouth on him, sucking him; his cum glistening on her shoulder.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Betty. It was like a switch had been thrown somewhere deep inside of him. His entire life had just split into two: before last night and after. He’d fallen in love with Betty because of her intelligence and her kindness and her softness. But now that he knew the passionate side of her, what it was like to taste her and possess her and please her, what he’d thought was love had solidified into something he simply could not live without. He couldn’t lose her again. Going back to a life without this level of intimacy was unacceptable.

Jughead quickly dressed. He checked the time; it was nearly time to leave. That reminded him that he had something for Betty and he retrieved the box out of the very back of his closet. He carried it out to the kitchen.

Betty was picture perfect from head to toe. She’d pulled out a paperback of _Wuthering Heights_ from her bag and was reading. She idly stirred the coffee in her mug, the soft clinking of the spoon against the mug the only sound in the room.

“I love you,” he said softly.

She looked up at him in surprise. “And I love you.” Her face widened into a huge grin. “Very much.”

“I bought this for you, but I never had a chance to give it to you.” He handed her the gift-wrapped box, covered in pink floral paper. He hadn’t known what to do with it when they broke up; it wasn’t returnable. Right now, he was so glad he’d bought it.

She looked at him quizzically. “But you already gave me my Christmas present, Jug.”

“This is more of an ‘I want you in my life’ present.”

Betty opened up the box and pulled out the motorcycle helmet he’d bought for her. She flipped the white helmet around in her hands. Her fingers traced the black crown that he’d meticulously painted on the side.

“I know it’s not the most attractive thing in the world,” Jughead explained, “but it will keep you safe. That’s the most important thing.”

Betty looked up at him, her eyes full of tears. “Oh, Juggie.”

Jughead panicked. He’d made her cry. This was not going the way he’d imagined. “Oh, God. Betty, this was supposed to-”

She put down the helmet, grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him hard. She was crying while still kissing him and Jughead didn’t understand what she was feeling.

Betty broke the kiss and put her hands under his sweater. He gasped as she ran her fingernails across his skin. “Make love to me again before we go.” She gave him a sultry gaze, even though her cheeks were still marked with tears.

Betty’s mood swings were hard to keep up with. Jughead tried to shake off the haze of lust she’d just awakened with her touch. He had to be practical. “We need to be at the Pembrooke in fifteen minutes.” If Alice Cooper arrived before Betty, it would not go well.

Betty put her hand on his buckle and unfastened his belt. “I don’t care.”

They were clean and dressed and they needed to leave. This was a very bad idea. “Betty-“

She unzipped his fly, pulled out his dick and pushed all of him into her mouth. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh as her warm mouth surrounded him. All objections ceased. She sucked on him and it was perfect, so blissful, and her attention made him hard as a rock.

She pulled away from him, pushed down her panties and left them lying on his floor. “Take me,” she said raggedly. ”Right now.”

Jughead kissed her hard and shoved his hand up her skirt and between her legs. She was sopping wet, ready for him now. He was ready, too.

“Turn around and put your hands on the table.” As soon as Betty did, he flipped up her skirt, spread her thighs and slid inside her from behind. The position was intense and deep and they both moaned.

“I want to go hard,” Jughead said raggedly, pumping. His dick was so deep inside her and it felt so amazing. He needed more.

“Yes, yes, I need to come,” Betty gasped. “I need it now.”

The sight of Betty’s sweet little ass with his hand mark on it was incredibly erotic. “I want to spank you.”

“Please, yes, hurt me.”

He hit her ass as he slid in and out of her body. She writhed around him when the slaps hit. It made everything that much better, sweeter.

“Please, Jug, more. Please. This is so perfect.”

He slapped her ass twice more before she began to come. She tightened all around him, and he came in a rush, filling her with his cum. He loved this; God, he loved her so much.

“I’m not done,” Betty said raggedly. “’I’m going to come again. Fuck me, fuck me, do it hard and don’t stop.”

He grabbed her thigh and pumped as hard as he could, willing himself to stay hard and give her what she needed just one more time. Everything on the kitchen table began to shake; the pepper shaker fell over and rolled off the edge of the table.

“Oh God, yes!” She was screaming.

He smiled, knowing she was close. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Scream for me.” He was pumping in her as hard as he could go.

“Fuck yes. So good,” she gasped.

Jughead felt her throb around him and he gasped with pleasure as she came. He could go again, too; he wanted to come again. “Betty, Betty. Don’t stop.”

She met each of his thrusts with her own. Their bodies were slapping together from the force of their motion. It was so much sensation, almost too much. “I’m going to come inside you. I’m coming right now.” And with a gasp, he did.

Jughead slid out of her body, breathing hard. Betty rested her forehead on the table, panting for breath.

Jughead’s entire body felt warm and content. “Jesus, Betty, that was amazing.”

She turned to him with a smile. “For you, too?”

“Oh, God, yes.” Jughead kissed her, his hands in her hair. This sex with Betty thing was new and unimagined territory. Every time was different. Everything about being with her made him feel so good. “I love you so much.”

Betty’s cell phone chimed. She looked at it. “Ten-minute warning from Veronica.” She picked up her panties from the floor and pulled them on. “We’re out of time, Juggie.”

He locked up the trailer and they climbed onto his bike. Betty clutched him hard around his waist and he smiled. “Hold on tight, baby.”

With a roar, they sped off towards the Northside.

****

Back at the trailer, Jughead tidied up before his father came back. He loaded his sheets and the blanket from the couch into the washing machine. Betty had left behind her bra and panties from the night before. He threw them into the same load of laundry, hoping it wouldn’t damage them. Everything reeked of sex, of his body and hers. The scent made him hard again.

He tidied up the kitchen table and found the pepper shaker that had rolled away under one of the cabinets. He swept up spilled pepper from the floor and tossed it into the trash. As he put the trailer back to the way it had been before Betty Cooper had swept back into his life, the events of the prior night seemed less real.

When everything was done, Jughead felt exhausted and overwhelmed. He flopped down on the couch and closed his eyes. Something momentous had happened to him. It was much more momentous than merely losing his virginity.

He’d learned more about Betty Cooper, someone he thought he knew inside and out. He’d discovered some unpleasant truths about himself. And their relationship had blossomed in a way that he’d never known was possible. He had to do everything possible to protect it.

Exhausted, Jughead fell into a deep sleep.

****

“Jug.” Jughead woke up to see his father’s face close to his. “Hey, boy. Looks like you had a rough night.”

Jughead rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up. “When did you get home?”

“Just got here. It’s a little after eleven.” FP cracked open a can of beer. Jughead winced; he wished his dad would stop bringing beer home. It was bad enough that he was drinking at the bar.

“Isn’t it a little early for beer?” Jughead wished he hadn’t said it as his dad’s eyes hardened. Methodically, he made eye contact with Jug as he swallowed the entire can of beer, gulp after gulp.

The can empty, FP crushed it. “You’re not the parent here, Jug. I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”

“I know that,” Jughead said hurriedly. Having yet another argument about his dad’s drinking was a no-win situation.

FP sat next to him on the couch. “So. I take it that after last night, you and Betty are back together.”

“We are,” Jughead confirmed.

“That’s good. What are you going to do different this time, so that you can make it stick?” FP asked.

“That’s a really good question, Dad. Believe me, I’m thinking about it.”

FP nodded. “Good. So, how is this going to work? Will you bring her down to the bar; try to fit her into the Serpents? Since you’re so gung-ho about being on the Southside now and all.” His father’s voice was dry; Jughead knew damn well what his father thought about that.

Jughead knew what would be best for Betty and that made the decision for him. “No, I’m not. Betty doesn’t belong with the Serpents, and as much as I hate to say it, being part of the gang brings out a part of me that I don’t really like.”

“I heard that you worked over Penny Peabody pretty well with your little switchblade.” FP looked at him, his brow furrowed. “I didn’t think you had that in you, son, I really didn’t.”

Jughead hadn’t either and it had scared the hell out of him. He was never going to shake the feeling of cutting up Penny’s arm, but he knew how to redirect that dark impulse now. He’d been able to be honest with Betty about it and that made the memory easier to take. “I’m going to step back from the Serpents for a while. I need to just focus on Betty right now.”

FP laughed, his shoulders shaking. “After all that shit you gave me about being part of the Serpents, you’re just going to drop it?”

Jughead flushed. “I need to choose between living my life with the Serpents or being a good boyfriend to Betty. I love Betty, Dad. I have to put her first.”

“So you pop your cherry and now the entire world revolves around Betty Cooper?” FP smirked. “I guess she gave you a really good ride last night.”

“Don’t talk about her like that, Dad.” Jughead’s voice was hard and angry. He wouldn’t put up with anyone taking trash about Betty.

“Sorry, son, sorry.” FP shrugged. “It’s just funny to me, how you get an idea in your head and won’t let it go. That Blossom kid’s murder; joining the Serpents; being with Betty. There’s no in-between with you, Jug. You’re either at a dead stop or moving forward a hundred miles an hour.”

“I know that,” Jughead admitted. “I’m not a casual person. I’d like to be like you and not have anything really get to me. But I’m not you. Everything gets to me, Dad. Most of the time I just don’t show it.”

FP sighed. “Okay, look. I would rather that you weren’t part of the Serpents; you know that. But you were willing to fight me tooth and nail over this. You ran the gauntlet; you proved yourself to the men. Now you’re willing to throw it all away just because your girl doesn’t want you in the gang?”

Jughead shook his head. “It’s not like Betty gave me some ultimatum. This is a decision that I made because it’s the best thing for both of us. She needs me around right now. Pushing her away, breaking up, it made things very hard for her. She’s having a rough time emotionally and I need to be there as much as I can. I need to make Betty my first priority.”

“Son, your first priority needs to be your education.” FP looked at him, his eyes dark. “You’ve got a real shot at getting out of this town and making something great out of your life. You can’t let anything get in the way of that.”

Jughead didn’t have any idea what his future held, but he knew one thing with certainty: Betty Cooper would be at the heart of every plan he would make from now on. “I want college, I want the writing,” Jughead explained. “I still have my long-term goals, Dad. But my short-term goal is to be there for Betty as much as I can and try to heal the damage that I did to our relationship. I violated her trust and I need to earn it back.”

“Just don’t get in over your head.” FP sighed. “I know how intense a teenage romance can be. It can feel like it will last forever, Jug, I know that. But it won’t last. Just remember that.”

Jughead would make this last. He hadn’t just found love. He’d found the other half of himself; an essential, crucial part, and he knew that was true for Betty, too. Together they were two broken halves that made a beautiful whole.

FP’s phone rang. “Hey, Tall Boy.” He gave Jughead an apologetic shrug. “Yeah, I can be there in five.”

FP walked out the door, slamming it hard enough to shake the trailer.

****

Jughead would see Betty in eight hours; they had plans to meet in her room at midnight. It seemed like an endless expanse of time from now.

Jughead fired up his laptop and turned on his private browsing history. This was not something he wanted to discuss with his father- or anyone else for that matter. He had some idea what he was looking for and the Internet was where to do it. He was pretty sure he wasn’t going to find any relevant books at Riverdale Public Library.

 _Dominant man, submissive woman,_ he typed into the search bar.

As Jughead began to read the articles, he grew more and more certain that he knew how to fix Betty Cooper. The answer to her problems was actually both very simple and very difficult. All he had to do was make her understand that she didn’t need fixing at all.

Betty was submissive. She liked pain, roleplaying. All of these things were just aspects of sexual preference. She wasn’t some sort of deviant, nor was she crazy. She just wanted to be pleasured in a specific way.

Luckily for Jughead, his pleasures meshed entirely with hers. She liked to be hurt; he enjoyed inflicting pain. She was pleased with being dominated; he loved to bend her to his will. If they hadn’t found each other, they both would have just been convinced that there was something wrong with them. But it was all very simple: she just needed him; he just needed her.

As Jughead scrolled through hundred of articles on BDSM, he learned one thing for certain: there were a lot more people like he and Betty out there. And there were a lot of aspects of dominance and submission that sounded like a hell of a lot of fun to try with Betty.

Jughead smiled, opened a new document, password protected it and started writing all of the things that he wanted to do to please the woman he loved and show her that her desires were nothing to be ashamed of.

********

It was just after six when Jughead’s cell phone rang. FP was still out; Jughead was about to warm up a can of ravioli for dinner.

“Hey Juggie,” Betty said, her voice cheerful.

He smiled at the sound of her voice. “I miss you. Can’t wait to see you tonight.”

“Actually, I was hoping that you could come over for dinner. My mother is making roast chicken.”

Jughead put the can back in the cupboard. “I’d be happy to. What’s the occasion?”

Betty sighed. “I told my mother that we were back together and she insisted that you come. She invited your dad, too.”

“Okay.” Jughead rubbed his nose. Alice Cooper was exhausting; no wonder Betty was always so stressed out. “So, do you want me there?”

“Absolutely. Yes, Definitely. I just don’t know what my mother has up her sleeve.”

“I’m sure she has something,” Jughead agreed. “But I’m not worried about it.”

“That makes one of us.” Betty’s voice sounded quite worried.

“Hey,” Jughead said soothingly. “We’re in this together. Just think of this way: you know she’s going to say something awful, so we can just guess what it is. My bet is that she’ll make some snarky comment about how our relationship won’t last. Or she’ll bring up Polly’s pregnancy and remind us that sex has consequences.”

“Or that she thinks the Serpents are a bunch of criminal degenerates,” said Betty.

“Yeah, that sounds like her, too. But the point is that it just doesn’t really matter what she says, Betty.”

“I just don’t want her trying to split us up,” Betty explained.

“She can try all she wants to, but it’s not going to make a difference.” Jughead knew that Betty wanted to be with him; he had renewed his commitment to her. As far as he was concerned, they were just going through the motions in Riverdale until they both went off to college and were free to live life on their own terms. The bullshit ramblings of their parents were nothing but hot air and white noise.

“So you’ll be here at seven for dinner?” asked Betty.

“I’ll be there. My dad is out, but I’ll see if he can make it.”

“Great.” Betty sounded pleased. “You’ll get to meet Chic.”

“That will be nice.” Jughead was, admittedly, curious about the long lost Cooper sibling. “Love you, Betts. See you soon.”

Jughead dialed his father’s cell. FP answered after four rings. “Hey, son. What’s up?”

“Alice Cooper has invited us to come for dinner tonight.”

FP laughed. “This have anything to do with her baby girl spending the night with you?”

“I hope not, but I’m not sure.”

“Well, I sure won’t spill the beans about that. So, you want me to come to this dinner?”

“If you can make it, it would be good. I’m really serious about Betty, Dad. If we can possibly smooth things over with the Coopers, that would be great.”

“Son, Alice Cooper hates my guts. There is nothing I can ever say or do to get that woman to like me. And that’s only going to make it harder for you.”

Jughead sighed. His father was probably right. “Look, it is up to you. Dinner’s at seven. Mrs. Cooper is making a roast chicken, apparently. If you can make it, I would really appreciate it.”

Jughead hung up. He thought about the conversation, Betty’s obvious nervousness. That kind of thing was likely what triggered her cutting. He thought about all of those cuts, on her thighs and arms. He’d asked her to promise him she would stop; she hadn’t actually agreed not to. Frowning, he sent her a message:

_Hey Betts. Just wanted to check in with you, make sure that you’re not hurting yourself._

Her response was almost immediate.

_I know you don’t want me to do that. I’m trying hard not to._

Jughead frowned. He knew that he could redirect that urge when he was there. How to make sure she didn’t while he wasn’t? _  
_

_Just remember that if you do, you’ll be punished and I’ll be very disappointed in you._

Betty quickly replied.

  _I promise not to, Jug. Tonight at midnight I’ll give you the razor.  
_

At midnight, Jughead would tie her to the bedpost and fuck her until she couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t wait. But first, he had to get through a dinner with the dysfunctional Cooper clan, his own unpredictable father and the unknown wild card that was Betty’s long-lost brother.

****

Jughead rang the doorbell at the Cooper’s house at seven on the dot. Betty opened the door. She looked beautiful, wearing a light blue dress that brought out her eyes.

“Hey baby.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I brought flowers for your mom.”

She smiled. “A blatant, but probably effective, bribe.” He followed her into the dining room. Alice was placing a pair of red candles into a pair of tall candlesticks.

“Jughead brought flowers for the table, Mom. Isn’t that sweet?”

Alice didn’t even spare a glance at the carnations. “Go get a vase from the kitchen, Betty.”

With a quick smile, Betty left to fetch the vase.

“So, you and my daughter are an item again.” Alice Cooper put her hand on her hips and glared at him. “I do not approve.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Cooper.” But not surprised.

“You have caused my daughter a great deal of pain, young man. My daughter has spent night after night crying her eyes out over you.”

Jughead knew that was true. “I’m very sorry for that. I’ll do my best not to hurt her again.”

“You think you’re really clever, don’t you?” She poked him in the chest. “I saw you, on your dangerous little motorcycle, dropping off my daughter at the Pembrooke this morning.”

Jughead gulped.

“So I know full well that you spent the night together.” Alice licked her lips. “You are an animal. Just like every other teenage boy. You’re all disgusting beasts, ruled by filthy appetites and lustful urges.”

A tall, thin blond man walked through the archway from the living room. Jughead was struck by how pale he was and the uncomfortable intensity of his gaze. “I couldn’t find the lighter, but these matches were above the fireplace.” He handed Alice a box of long wooden matches.

Alice smiled at the man and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Chic.”

“So, obviously, you are Chic Cooper.” Jughead extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jughead Jones, Betty’s boyfriend.”

Chic shook his hand with a surprisingly hard grip. “Chic Smith, actually. Nice to meet you.” He tilted his head. “I have to say, I wasn’t aware that Betty had a boyfriend.”

“We were on a bit of a...break. We’re back together now, though.”

“For the moment,” Alice said crisply and lit the candles. The smell of bayberry filled the air.

Betty walked back in carrying a crystal vase. “Oh, good. Jughead, this is my brother Chic. Chic, this is my boyfriend, Jughead.”

“We just introduced ourselves,” Chic explained.

Betty began arranging the red carnations in the vase. “These are very pretty flowers, Juggie.” She smiled at him, her eyes shining.

“I hate carnations,” Alice said flatly. “They’re cheap.”

The doorbell rang. “Chic, can you get that please? It should be Jughead’s father, FP,” said Alice.

“FP Jones?” Chic asked, his brow furrowed.

“The one and only,” Jughead quipped.

“Not really,” Betty said. “Technically, you’re also FP Jones.”

“True,” Jughead admitted.

Chic raised his eyebrows. “Huh.” He turned and walked towards the front of the house.

Why had Chic recognized his father’s name? Jughead could think of a couple explanations: the newspaper coverage of his father’s trial; his father’s general reputation as a gang leader. He sighed; so much for good first impressions on Betty’s brother. His family name was garbage in this town.

Betty squeezed his hand. “I’m really glad you are here, Jug. Come sit next to me.” She sat down at the end of the table and Jughead sat next to her.

Chic came back in, with FP close behind. Jughead saw that his father was clean-shaven, wearing a tie, and carrying another bouquet of red carnations. Jughead was genuinely touched by his father’s efforts.

FP handed the flowers to Alice. “Thanks for the invitation.”

Alice sighed. “Great. More carnations.” Betty stood up, took them from her and added them to the vase.

FP sat down next to Jughead. “Everything looks great, Alice.” The table was filled with platters and bowl of food. The meal looked and smelled fantastic.

Alice frowned. “We’re still missing Hal.”

“Dad said he’s in the middle of watching a game and he’ll make himself a plate when he’s done,” Betty said in a quiet voice.

Alice turned and stomped out of the room.

Betty bit her lip. Under the table, Jughead gently slapped her thigh. She met his gaze and he shook his head no.

“Betty, why don’t you start passing around the chicken?” FP suggested.

She nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

As they passed the dishes around, they could hear the muted sounds of an argument coming up from the basement. Betty’s skin flushed with embarrassment.

“So, Chic.” Jughead tried to fill the silence. “It must have been a nice surprise, meeting your mother and your sister.”

Chic nodded. “Well, I’d had the idea myself to find my birth family when I turned eighteen. I came by here soon afterwards, but Hal turned me away.”

Betty looked over at him, her eyes wide. “What?”

Chic nodded. “Your father told me that if I wanted to reconnect with family, I was knocking on the wrong door. He told me to go down to the Southside and find FP Jones.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Jughead turned to his father. “Why would Hal Cooper tell Chic to go see you?”

FP blinked. “I have no fucking idea, Juggie.”

Alice and Hal walked through the archway. They both looked really angry. Alice sat down at the head of the table and took a sip of water. Hal sat down at the other end, as far from her as possible.

“Dad,” Betty said angrily. “Chic told us that when he came to our house before, you told him to go away and go talk to Jughead’s dad. Why did you do that?”

Alice choked on the mouthful of water, leading to a coughing fit that had Betty patting her mother’s back.

Hal looked over at FP, his eyes hard. “Because Chic isn’t a Cooper; he’s a Jones.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Hal?” FP looked really pissed off.

“Alice got pregnant with your baby, not mine,” Hal snapped. “Do you think I would have told her to get rid of my kid? No. I wanted her to get rid of your bastard!”

Jughead was stunned. He looked at Alice’s shocked face, then Betty’s. They both looked devastated.

His father, on the other hand, was furious. “How could you say such a thing?” FP hissed. “How could you disrespect your own wife like that, make her sound like a whore, in front of all our kids?”

“Alice acted like a whore! You made one out of her! You ran around with my girlfriend, behind my back, and got her pregnant!” Hal was red in the face. “The whole town was gossiping! Did you think I was stupid?”

“Hal, you are so, so fucking stupid,” Alice said coldly. She yanked the cork out of a bottle of white wine and filled her glass to the brim.

Hal banged his fist on the table. “Shut your mouth, Alice!”

“I never laid a hand on Alice,” FP said firmly. “Not before you came along, not while she was with you. Not ever.” He stood up.

Hal stood up, too, and leaned in, very close to FP. “I’m not footing the bill to keep your cuckoo in my nest! I know that kid is not mine. If he wants a family, take him back to your miserable little trailer.”

Betty let out a sob and ran out of the room.

Jughead got up and threw his napkin down on his plate. “I don’t know what the hell is going on,” he said, his voice full of anger. “But maybe you should all work it out in private, instead of dragging all of us into it!”

Jughead followed the sound of Betty’s crying to her room. She was curled up on her bed, sobbing. He locked the door behind him and lay down with her.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, Betty.”

She rolled over and pressed her face to his chest. He let her cry it out, patting her back.

There was a knock at the door. “Betty? It’s Chic.”

Betty wiped her face with her hand and hurried to the door. She opened it to see her brother, standing with a bag over his shoulder. “You’re a nice kid, Betty. You deserve better than this family. I don’t want anything to do with these people.”

Betty gasped. “Chic, no!”

“I’m heading down to Florida for a while. I think it’s time to make a change.” Chic gave her a sad smile. “When I get settled in, I’ll let you know where I am. Maybe we can see each other again.”

Betty grabbed his arm. “No, please don’t go.”

He shrugged off her touch and turned away, walking down the stairs.

Betty let out the saddest noise and just crumpled to the floor.

Jughead knelt next to her. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

She shook her head back and forth. “No. It never is.” She looked past him, her gaze blank.

Betty was retreating into herself, turning back into the miserable, disconnected girl that had waited outside his trailer last night. He needed to take care of her and help her snap out of it.

Jughead grabbed Betty’s elbows and hauled her to her feet. “Enough of this. You’re coming with me.” He picked up her backpack and handed it to her. She slung it over her shoulder and he took her hand.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they left her room.

“Away from all this bullshit, Betty.”

They walked down the stairs. There was a loud crash of something shattering against the wall and three angry voices: Hal; FP; and Alice. They walked out the front door and down to Jughead’s motorcycle.

Jughead handed Betty her helmet and put his on. He started up the bike and drove the two of them away from all of the mess their parents had made.

****

Betty and Jughead sat side-by-side in a booth at Pop’s. It was Saturday night; the place was full of people. Someone had put quarters in the jukebox, playing _Shake, Rattle and Roll_.

Betty was staring out of the window and Jughead patted her knee to get her attention. “You should eat, babe. Have one of my fries.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’m not hungry. I can’t believe that you can eat at a time like this, either.”

Jughead shrugged. “I didn’t get to finish that roast chicken dinner that your mom made before all the fun began.” He took a bite of his hamburger.

“Juggie,” she said reproachfully. “It’s not funny.”

“I am hungry and I would like you to eat something, too,” said Jughead. He’d seen her naked, quite a lot these last twenty-four hours, and her skirts and panties were loose around her waist. Someone needed to remind Betty Cooper to take care of herself. “How about a fluffernutter sandwich?”

She smiled at him, a real big smile that lit up her eyes. “Jug, that’s on the kid’s menu. I haven’t ordered one since we were seven years old.”

“But you loved them.”

She nodded. “I did.”

Jughead grabbed a passing waiter. “Can you bring us a fluffernutter and a tall glass of milk, please?”

When her sandwich arrived, Jughead watched as Betty carefully removed all of the crusts. She’d always been a picky eater; apparently she still was. He was very gratified when she picked up the sandwich and began eating. The sandwich, of peanut butter and marshmallow fluff on white bread, was a culinary nightmare. But it was food; he’d succeeded in getting her to eat.

This, he decided, was his major purpose in life: taking care of Betty Cooper and making her happy. He happily ate his own burger as she ate her sandwich.

When they were both done, Betty kissed his cheek. “I should probably go back home and see what’s happened.”

Jughead shook his head. “No, Betts, we’re going on an impromptu date. We are going to have a true blue, guaranteed, good for what ails you, mood-heightening experience.”

“What’s that?” Betty asked, a small smile on her lips. “Oh, wait. Are you propositioning me?”

Jughead laughed and rubbed her knee under the table. “No, Betts. We are going to go see a double feature at the Odeon. We will forget all our problems as we take in tonight’s serving of horror or rom coms or action films or whatever they are showing.”

Betty shook her head. “A movie won’t make all my troubles go away, Jug.”

“Honestly, there is no quicker, cheaper or faster way, in my opinion, for feeling better when bad things happen.” Jughead lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Cinema therapy, if you will. It’s been helping me for years. Let’s give it a try, Betts.”

****

At the Odeon, Jughead noticed two signs taped to the glass of the ticket window. One was for a room for rent; the other a help wanted ad for a projectionist. “So, who can I talk to about the room and the job?” he asked the cashier.

“Dane, he’s the manager,” the cashier explained. “He’ll be back after the feature is over to close up.”

“Great, thanks.”

“Why did you ask about that?” Betty asked.

Jughead put his arm around her as they walked to the concession stand. “I could use a job and I have experience, so I might actually make some decent money. I’m sure I can’t afford the room, but it would be a nice alternative to the trailer if I could swing it.” He’d already had two arguments with his dad about his drinking; they were headed in the same direction that had led to him packing his stuff and heading to the Twilight to crash.

As the credits came up for _Lawrence of Arabia_ , Betty leaned her head on his shoulder and let out a sigh. “Oh, Juggie.”

Jughead cupped his hand around her shoulder, holding her close. “It’s okay, baby. Just enjoy the movie.”

Betty’s family was fucked up. Her parents had acted like they hated each other for a long time; Jughead suspected that this last blow out was going to be the final one. Betty’s parents were going to get a divorce.

“Do you think that it’s true?” Betty whispered. “That your dad is Chic’s father?”

“It’s definitely not true,” Jughead assured her. His father had shared many stories about his high school conquests. Alice Cooper had not been on that impressively long list, although some of his other friend’s moms had been.

Betty smiled. “Good.” He watched the tension drain from her shoulders, her face relax. He kissed her cheek and watched the movie.

As he watched, his attention drifted. It would be cool to work here. Jughead had loved working at the Twilight and having the projection booth to himself. If the setup was similar here, he could maybe do the same thing. He’d have a place to crash, without watching his dad crawl back into the bottle. And now, with Betty, having someplace to be together seemed like the most important thing in the world.

Jughead mulled over the room for rent. He’d managed to get some cash together, working for the Serpents. Depending on how cheap the room was, he might manage to come up with a deposit. He loved the idea of having his own place, not just throwing a sleeping bag on the projection room floor. If the projectionist job made enough, he just might make this work.

Betty fell asleep halfway through the film. Jughead held her close, listening to her breathe. No wonder she was tired; he’d worn her out last night and she’d woken up pretty early.

When the lights came up, they walked out together to the lobby. Jughead knocked on the door to the manager’s office. A short blond guy in his early twenties answered his knock.

“Hi, I’m Jughead Jones.” Jughead extended his hand. “I’m here to talk to you about the projectionist job.”

“Oh yeah?” The guy shook his hand and looked him up and down. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dane.”

“I have two years of experience,” Jughead explained. “I did all the weekend shows at the Twilight until it closed. And the afternoon matinees three times a week, too.”

“That's great!” The manager brightened considerably. “So you have experience working with film reels, then?”

“I do,” Jughead confirmed. “I know how to splice, fix all kinds of projectors, handle all kinds of reels properly. I’ve never damaged a single frame of film, not ever. I have a good relationship with the classic film distributors: Joan at Gem; Ben at High Art. I worked for Kenny Deale at the Twilight; he lives over in Greendale. I know he’d give me a great reference and Joan and Ben know that I do good work, too. They’d vouch for me.”

“Well, you sound like just the ticket, Mr. Jones.” Dane smiled at him. “The hours are four to midnight Wednesday to Sunday. It’s a full-time job, forty hours a week. No benefits. If you’ll take cash under the table, I’ll pay you twelve bucks an hour.”

The salary was considerably more than Jughead had been making at the drive-in. “I don’t know.” It was a big time commitment.

“Thirteen dollars an hour,” said the manager, “and I’ll throw in the room. The cashier said that you were interested. It’s next door to the projection booth on the second floor. It’s just five hundred square feet, nothing to brag about, but maybe it will sweeten the pot?”

Jughead looked at Betty. She raised one eyebrow and nodded. Somewhere just theirs? Where they could be alone? It was extremely tempting- and she wanted him to do it.

Before Jughead could agree, Dane upped his offer. “Fourteen bucks an hour and that’s my final offer. You’re the last of a dying breed, kid. With everything going digital, I think you need me as much as I need you.”

Jughead shook his hand. “You have yourself a new projectionist.”

Dane handed Jughead a key chain with three keys on it. “These are the keys to the front lobby, back door, and the projection booth.” He gave him a serious look. “Don’t lose the keys; I’ll charge you twenty-five bucks each to replace them.”

“I’ve never lost a set of keys,” Jughead said. “And I definitely don’t want to spend seventy-five dollars to replace them.”

The manager nodded. He rifled through his desk and pulled out a manila envelope. “There’s two sets of keys in here for the room. Once again, if you lose a key it’s twenty-five bucks. Electricity and water are included. You want a phone line, cable, that’s on you. There’s free Wi-Fi; let me get you that information. “ He scribbled on a Post-It and handed it to Jughead. “I’ll see you tomorrow at three to go over a few things with you and then your first shift will start at four.”

“Sounds great.” Jughead shook Dane’s hand again. “Thanks so much.”

“You can get to your room by going through the projection booth on the second floor or from the staircase in the back alley,” the manager explained. “Please do any moving in before three in the afternoon or after midnight. If you’re moving heavy stuff up the back staircase, you can hear it inside the theater. I don’t want to disturb our audience members.”

“We’ll be sure to keep it quiet,” Betty assured him.

They said goodnight to Dane and walked up the main staircase to the second floor of the theater. They passed doors to the men and women’s restrooms and found the “no admittance” door that marked the projection booth.

Jughead unlocked the door and walked inside. It was very similar to the booth at the Twilight. In addition to the projection equipment, there was a fold out couch and two metal bookcases against the wall filled with film reels and equipment.

At the very back of the room was a locked door, marked with a sign that said PRIVATE.

Betty stepped forward and took one of the keys from the envelope. “I want to open the door first,” she said excitedly.

Jughead smiled at her. “Don’t get too excited. I’m sure it will be a very crappy little room, Betts. The manager threw it in for free.”

Betty shrugged. “I don’t care. It’s our first place, you and I. Somewhere just for us and no one else.” She linked her fingers with his. “Juggie, I’m so happy. This is going to be great.”

Her enthusiasm made him excited, too. He didn’t have to worry, now, about what to do when this situation with his dad blew up, as it inevitably would. Be it ever so humble, Jughead had a home now of his own.

Betty unlocked the door and pushed it open. She found the switch and turned on the light. The entire room was floored in ugly brown linoleum. From where they stood, they had a straight line of sight through the entire space, back to the large glass window in the farthest wall. Five hundred square feet wasn’t very big; but it looked and felt like an entire apartment, not just a room.

To their right was the entrance to a galley kitchen; Jughead could see the sink and the cabinets from where he was standing.

“Jug, look! This is really great!” Betty turned and walked into the kitchen. “We have a full kitchen!”

Jughead stood in the doorway and watched her investigate. It was a tiny kitchen; Betty could reach out with her arms and touch the cabinets on both sides. The cabinets were outdated and ugly, made of heavily varnished oak with oversized hammered brass pulls. But the kitchen had modern looking appliances, including an electric stove and a refrigerator, and plenty of cabinets and storage for such a small space.

Betty opened the refrigerator and looked inside and opened and closed several cabinets. “It’s all pretty clean, Juggie. I just need to do a little cleaning, put in some new shelf paper and we’ll be all set.”

“You realize I have nothing to move into those cabinets,” Jughead noted. “I don’t own a single thing for a kitchen, not one pot or pan.” Everything he owned could fit into one backpack, as he knew from experience.

Betty shrugged. “We’ll get all the basics. It will be fine.”

“I have a very limited budget, Betty.” A few hundred dollars was not going to go far. He’d have to start with the absolute essentials and then gradually make their place more comfortable.

Jughead followed her as they walked through the space. A pocket door at the far end closed off a bedroom, which had a small closet and an alcove that was big enough to hold a queen sized bed. In the bedroom wall was a large picture window that overlooked the alley; there was a fire escape just outside their window.

A small bathroom held a sink, toilet and a glass shower stall. It boasted avocado green tile and the same ugly oak cabinets as the kitchen. There was a small linen closet inside the bathroom; it was empty other than a lone bar of Ivory soap. The bathroom had been cleaned recently; it was spotless and smelled of bleach.

In the main room, an angular brass chandelier hung from the ceiling, indicating the dining nook. Located between the kitchen and bathroom, it was large enough to fit a four-seat table. The opposite wall had built-in bookcases, made of the same heavy oak as the cabinetry. There was plenty of room to set up a sofa and a coffee table, maybe even a desk.

Betty sat down on the floor in front of the bookcases and looked around. “I like it,” she pronounced. “It’s cozy and it’s a blank slate. We can make this really nice.” She loved a project and clearly this apartment had captured her fancy. Jughead was very surprised that she liked it.

Jughead sat down next to her and put his hand on her knee. “Betty, this entire place would fit in your bedroom.” Jughead was thrilled with the apartment, though. It was clean, had more than enough room for him and all of his stuff, and Betty was happy with it. He was delighted that his offhand suggestion to catch a film at the Odeon had turned into this wonderful opportunity to put together a space that could feel like home for them both.

She smiled. “That’s not true. It is small, but I think it has a lot of potential, don’t you?”

“I do.” Jughead leaned forward and kissed her. “I hope that you can spend a lot of time here with me.” He loved the idea of being alone with Betty here. But with Betty’s super controlling mother, he didn’t think they would get away with many romantic nights here together.

“I will be here as much as I can, you can count on that,” Betty said decisively. “This is a place where we can be alone, away from all the bullshit with our parents, and just focus on each other!” She grinned at him, her face radiant. “Doesn’t that sound like a little slice of heaven, Jug?”

“It sounds wonderful.” Jughead took Betty’s hand. “I’m just a little worried about how much time we’ll actually have together. When we got back together, I decided to make spending time with you a priority. I even decided to step away from the Serpents, so it wouldn’t be a distraction from being available for you. But now I’ve taken a full-time job, which probably wasn’t the best idea. But you wanted me to take it, right?” He’d seen Betty nod and he could read her very well.

“Of course I wanted you to take it!” Betty’s face was bright with enthusiasm. “And we will make the time to be together, Jug. I can come and hang with you in the booth when you’re working, do homework or work on my articles. When you aren’t working, we can spend time together in the apartment. This is going to be wonderful, just wait!”

Jughead loved her so much. His thumb stroked her neck, feeling her skin. “I need you to know, Betty, that there is nothing more important to me in this whole world than you. I would do anything to make you happy. I hope you know that.”

“Oh, Jug.” Betty leaned forward and kissed him. “I feel that way about you, too.”

He took her hand in his, caressing her fingers. “You are so important to me. I want to be your rock and I want to take care of you. I’m really worried about what’s been happening with your self-harm. The cutting, the nails in your palms, that needs to stop. You and I, we can explore pain together and do it in a safe way. But you hurting yourself, punishing yourself when you feel upset or anxious, that needs to end. I want you to promise me that your darkness, that impulse, is now something that we share, not something that you face alone.”

Betty sighed and looked away. “Juggie-”

Jughead put his finger on her chin and gently turned her face towards his. “There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. You aren’t some twisted, weird person. You are someone who has very high standards for yourself and you make it nearly impossible to meet them. No one expects you to be perfect all the time except your mother. If you spent every day doing nothing but trying to make your mother happy, it still wouldn’t be enough. You know that, right? That there is nothing wrong with you except that you have shitty parents?”

Betty shook her head. “Jug, it’s so much more than that.”

“No, it’s not!” Jughead said passionately. “There’s two things about yourself that you don’t like: that you think that what turns you on is something embarrassing or shameful and that these impulses you have to hurt yourself are some deep, horrible darkness within you. But neither of these things are true.”

She was crying now, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You don’t understand how bad things are.”

“Then tell me. I’m right here.” He took her hand and kissed her palm. The healing crescents of her nails were clearly visible. “These are the fault of your mother and no one else. She rides you so hard, all the time, and she never fucking lets up.” He hated Betty’s mother for doing this to her.

Betty rolled up her sleeves and showed him the slashes on her arms. “These, Jug, these are from missing you. From trying to understand why you didn’t want me anymore. Why I wasn’t enough. Why I wasn’t important. Why did you leave me alone, after you told me you loved me?”

Jughead had never hated himself so much in his life. Of course this was entirely his fault. Of course she’d escalated her self-harm. She’d trusted him, opened up to him about her deepest, darkest fears and worries- and then he’d walked away.

He held her hands in his and kissed her arms, from her wrists up to her elbows. “I’m so sorry. Jesus, Betty, I never meant to hurt you.” He’d walked away to protect her; instead he’d made everything so much worse for her.

“But you did, Jug.” Betty’s voice held every bit of her pain. “You hurt me so much that I just couldn’t bear it. It hurt so much inside that it made me feel better to wear it on my skin.” She sighed. “When we fell in love it just awakened some part of me that I never knew I had; these hungry, needy urges. When you touched me, it woke up something inside of me and made me want things that I never thought about before. And when you broke up with me, I just didn’t know what to do with all of those feelings. So I needed the razor.” She blushed. “And the...vibrator. I just needed a release. I needed the pain, but I needed the pleasure, too.”

“I’ll give you both,” Jughead promised. “You have my whole heart, my body, all of me. We can experiment with pain and pleasure, as much as you need. I’ll do anything you want, Betts.” He would do whatever he could to help her make peace with her inner demons and feel healthy and whole.

Betty shook her head. “You don’t understand, Juggie. My fantasies are just really twisted and wrong.”

“Betty, what you want in bed is totally normal. Thousands of people just like us are out there and they enjoy the same things you think are so twisted and wrong.”

“I have sexual fantasies about some really weird things,” Betty admitted.

“Your sexual fantasies are nothing to be ashamed of. You like to dress up and pretend to be somebody else; that’s roleplaying. Pain turns you on; that makes you a masochist. Cutting your skin and playing with sharp objects turns you on; that’s called knifeplay. All of these things are just part of something called BDSM. It’s not some exotic thing no one’s ever heard of.”

Betty’s forehead wrinkled. “Jug, I’ve never heard of that.”

“Well, BDSM is all about control, either giving it or taking it. It’s what _Fifty Shades of Grey_ was about and everyone’s mom bought that crappy book. Millions of people are turned on by the idea of a dominant man and a submissive woman. That’s us, Betty: I’m dominant, I like to be the one in charge; and you’re submissive, you like someone else taking control of you.”

“Jug, I don’t know anyone who likes the kinds of things that I do,” said Betty. “I mean, girls talk. No one talks about doing...these things.”

Jughead wasn’t surprised to hear that. “Betty, most people don’t talk about the things that turn them on, their kinks and fetishes. Everyone has them and some are weirder than others. I mean, if you want to really be shocked, start Googling. People are turned on by all kinds of things, like feet; being tickled; peeing on each other. I mean, what we both enjoy isn’t even that exotic, I swear.”

“Really?” Betty looked at him, her brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

“I did some research today. I have a whole folder of bookmarks that you can read. I promise, Betty, what we have is nothing to be ashamed of or to worry about. It’s actually really wonderful because we are made for each other. What you want, what I want, they just align perfectly. That’s why were are so good together in bed.”

“I loved everything we did in bed,” Betty admitted, a blush on her cheeks. “Last night was the best night of my life.”

“For me, too.” Jughead cupped her cheek and kissed her. “You know there’s something really interesting, Betts. The submissive is the one who has the real power in the relationship. It’s the submissive that sets the boundaries. The dominant partner only has as much power as the submissive lets them have. I’m giving everything to you. I will put you first in everything in my life. You have the power to make me the happiest man on earth or to break me down. It’s all in your hands, not mine.”

She wrapped her hand around his neck and kissed him. “Do you really mean that?”

“With all my heart,” he said softly. “Betty, don’t you know how in love with you I am?”

“Tell me.” She kissed his neck, his ear. “I’d like to hear it.”

“You are more than I ever dreamed of, Betty, and a hell of a lot more than I deserve,” Jughead said honestly. “I want you in my life for the rest of my life. You are the most important person to me and always will be.”

She held up the key to the apartment. “Then let’s make this place a home, Jug. Just for the two of us.”

“I want that so much,” Jughead said honestly. He hadn’t had a home in such a long time; making a home with Betty, building a future with her, was his most closely guarded dream. “We’ll go out tomorrow and get a mattress and some pots and pans.” He stood up and pulled her to her feet. “This place, it will be whatever you want, Betty. We’ll make it just the way you like it.”

Betty wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight. “I wish we could just stay here, together, just the two of us, right now. I’d love to stay here and never leave.”

Jughead wished they could, too, with all his heart. “Unfortunately, we need to go.”

Betty sighed. “But we’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Hopefully with a bed and some pillows.” He put his arm around her and they walked out of the apartment, locking the door. They walked down the steep back staircase to the alley and down the street together towards his bike, holding hands.

They rode the bike back to Betty’s house. They walked in and no one was there; the entire house was dark. The dinner table was still set; the remains of the roast chicken were splattered against the wall. The wine bottle had overturned, leaving a puddle of wine soaking into the white tablecloth. Broken china crunched under their feet when they walked in.

“Where is everyone, Jug? This is creepy.”

“Check the messages on your phone,” Jughead suggested.

“I had it off in the theater.” Betty turned on her cell. With it set to speaker, she played her voice mail messages, her head resting against Jughead’s shoulder. He put his arm around her and listened.

_“Betty, it’s Daddy. I’m staying at the Register office for the time being. I’m seeing a lawyer in the morning; I’m done with your mother. If you want to talk, swing by and see your old man. Talk to you soon, baby.”_

_“Betty, it’s Mom. I just can’t stand being in that empty house anymore. You’re all grown up; no needs me to be their mother anymore.”_ On the message, Alice took a deep shaky breath. _“I quit the paper; I’m divorcing your father. I’m going to Chicago to talk to Mary Andrews about getting the paperwork and just take a little time to myself for a few days. Your dad is around if you need anything and you have the credit card to buy groceries or whatever else you need. I love you, sweetie.”_

_“Betty, it’s Chic. I just wanted to tell you none of this is your fault. I think you take things too much to heart, sis. I’m so glad I met you. Take care of yourself.”_

Betty let out a defeated sigh. “I’m all alone. Everyone’s gone and I’m just...alone.”

“No, you’re not.” Jughead cupped his hands around her cheeks and kissed her deeply. “Are you alone, Betts?”

“No, I have you.” She smiled at him, her eyes full of love. “Take me to my room, Jug.”

Jughead picked her up, cradled her in his arms and carried her up to her room. Once inside, Jughead set her down and locked the door.

“Jug, can you please unzip me?” Betty moved her hair over her shoulder, revealing the zipper down the back of her dress.

Jughead unzipped her, his fingers running over her soft, creamy skin. His heart beat faster as he caught a whiff of her perfume.

Betty pulled her dress over her head, revealing her lacy black bra and matching panties.

“You look so nice in this black lace.” Jughead ran his fingers along the edges of her bra, feeling the lace against her skin. “This is so sexy, Betty.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide. “We’re alone now, Jug. No one is going to interrupt us. No one even cares what we’re doing right now. We have all night together.”

“It’s just you and me now.” Jughead reached out one hand and pulled the elastic band from her ponytail, watching her golden hair fall and cascade over her shoulders.

“You said that you were going to tie me to the bed and take my razor away tonight.” Betty looked at him with avid eyes.

Jughead ran his hands over her breasts, her belly. “I want to tie you up so badly, Betty. Just the thought of it makes me hard.”

“Then I think that we should get ready to go to bed.” Betty loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. She licked his neck, making him shiver.

Jughead twisted his hand in her hair. “You belong to me.”

“I do,” she agreed, and kissed him, her tongue sweeping into his mouth.

“Just me, Betty.” Jughead bit her at the nape of her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone. His hand moved down to cup her through her panties. “Your pussy belongs to me. Just me.”

“All I want is you, Jug.” Betty’s voice was breathy and full of desire. “I need you, so much.”

Jughead grabbed her ass in both of his hands and kneaded her cheeks. She moaned and ground against him. He bit her earlobe and whispered in her ear. “Where is that pale pink negligee, Betty? The one you were going to fuck Archie in?”

She froze and then bit her lip, her teeth sinking into her flesh. “I’m sorry I told you about that.”

Jughead slapped her ass hard. “Do. Not. Bite. Yourself.” He leaned forward and bit her collarbone. “Who is the one that hurts you, Betts?”

“You,” she said in a quiet voice.

“That’s right. Just me.” He leaned forward and kissed her. “Now, go put on your lingerie.”

Betty went to her closet and he watched her as she took off her bra and panties. She was so beautiful, cast in the dim light from the closet. Her breasts were so full and flawless, her thighs marred by the shallow cuts that she’d inflicted on herself.

Betty unzipped a plastic garment bag and pulled out her negligee. It was a pink satin gown that fell to just below the knees. It was sheer; when she pulled it on, he could see the outlines of her nipples and her pubic hair through the material. Over it, she put a matching robe, made of lace, and tied it at the waist.

She turned off the closet light and walked out, stopping in front of him. “I’m dressed for bed and you’re still wearing all your clothes, Juggie.”

Jughead took off his beanie and set it on her dresser. He untied his tie and shoved it in his pocket. Quickly, he unbuttoned his dress shirt and tossed it on the floor.

She reached out her hand and placed it on his chest. “I like looking at you without your clothes on. You’re so beautiful.”

He grabbed her wrist. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me, Betty. Especially not while you are wearing that.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and confused. “I thought you wanted me to wear it for you, Jug.”

“I do,” he assured her. “And while you are wearing it, I would like for us to play with my knife. I’ll be very careful with you, I promise.” He could not wait to do this. The idea of what he was going to do was incredibly arousing to him. “Is that something you want to do with me?”

“Oh yes, Jug.” Her cheeks were flushed; Jughead could tell she was excited. He could see her hard nipples through her gown. “I like that idea.”

Jughead pulled the switchblade from his pocket and opened it. He gently placed the blade of the knife at the base of her throat. “Do you trust me?”

“I do,” she said, her voice calm.

“I want you to stay perfectly still and not make a sound. Do you understand?”

She licked her lips. “I do.”

“I’m the one who can give you what you need. Just me; no one else.” The thought of her being with someone else was unbearable. He was the one who had her heart, just as she had his. He licked her neck and then bit her earlobe. “I want you to tell me if you need me to stop. I need you to tell me if I’m hurting you in a way you don’t like. You’re allowed to tell me that; I want you to. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Jug.”

“Other than that, no noise. No sound. Not until I say so.” He kissed her deeply. “Are you ready to play?”

“Please.”

Jughead used the knife to cut apart the knot that held her robe closed. He swiped the blade against it again and it fell to the floor, cut into two pieces.

“Jug, what are you doing?” Betty asked.

He slapped her ass, hard. She moaned, her body jerking. “I said not to make a sound, Betty.” He moved behind her. With one hand, he pulled the robe away from her body. With the other, he twisted the knife into the material and slowly pulled the blade down the center. The delicate lace parted into two pieces. When he reached the bottom hem, the pieces fell apart, sliding down her arms and catching on her wrists.

Jughead closed his knife and put it on the dresser. Betty’s eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed. He pulled off the scraps of her robe, leaving her only in her transparent, pink gown. He watched her breasts rise and fall as she breathed, faster than normal.

“I want to be the one you think about, the one that you need,” Jughead said. “Tell me if I am, Betty. I want to hear it.”

“You are,” Betty assured him. “Jug, you’re my first love, my first lover. It will always be you. No one else will do.”

He kissed her deeply, his hands moving over her gown. It was sensual, feeling the curves of her body through the satin. The slick material slid across her skin, so luxuriantly. She looked beautiful in this gown, but she would only wear it once.

“Are you ready for me to tie you up?” He kissed her gently, brushing his lips across hers.

“Oh, please.” Her voice was full of need and want.

“Then go lie down on the bed, Betts.”

As Betty did as he asked, Jughead took off his pants and shoes, leaving him totally nude. He was already hard; he had been since he’d unzipped her dress. He picked up his tie with one hand and his knife with the other and prepared for the next phase of his plan.

Betty lay in the middle of her big white bed, waiting for him. He listened to her breathing: fast, a little ragged.

He sat down next to her and placed his switchblade between her breasts. He tossed his necktie across her belly. “Are you ready, Betty?”

She licked her lips. “Yes, Jug.”

He kissed her, his tongue licking inside her mouth. She moaned and moved her tongue into his mouth, just as eager. “Are you having fun so far?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. I like everything you do to me,” she whispered.

“I’d like to tie you up now,” said Jughead. “If you want me to, then put your hands over your head.”

Betty looked up at him, a slight smile on her lips, as she raised her hands.

He pulled both of her wrists together into his hand and tied them together with his tie. He wasn’t gentle; he didn’t want her to get loose until he was done.

Once her hands were bound, he used the knife to cut away the gown that covered her. With one gentle swipe of the blade after another, over and over, the pale pink satin became nothing but tatters. She didn’t make a sound; didn’t move. Just watched him, with those wide, beautiful eyes.

He put down the blade on her belly and brushed his fingers against her thighs. They were damp. Her face was flushed; her body was ready for him.

He set the knife aside and kneeled between her legs. He lapped at her pussy lips, pushed his tongue inside her. She was biting her lip, trying to stay quiet.

“Talk to me, Betty.”

 “Jug!” her voice was a loud gasp. “Please, please.”

“Tell me who owns you. Tell me who you belong to.”

“You, Jug. All I want is you. God, I want you so badly.”

Betty had been so good and so patient and Jughead rewarded her. He didn’t tease, just gave her what she wanted. He made her come over and over until she’d dampened the sheet under them with her juices.

Jughead moved up to her face and kissed her.

Betty plunged her tongue into his mouth. “Jug,” she gasped. “Take me, please.”

Very, very gently, he ran the blade across her chest. He ran the blade down her sternum and under each breast. A muffled cry spilled from her lips. He pulled the knife away from her skin and slapped her ass. She made a sharp gasp.

“Is this as much as you can take? Tell me, Betty. Talk to me. I will stop this anytime you want; it’s all up to you.” This was all about pleasing her; if she wasn’t enjoying it, he didn’t want to do it.

“Cut me now. Lick my blood,” she said softly, so he did.

He nicked her just under her breast with the knife, the same way he had with the razor the night before. She let out a sigh as the red line appeared on her skin. He eagerly tongued her blood, letting the salty taste of her fill his mouth.

“I want you to take me now,” Betty whispered. “Watching you lick my blood makes me so wet.”

“Do you want more? Do you want me to cut you again?” God, she was perfect.

She nodded. “Please. It feels so good.”

Jughead wanted more, too, so he gave her another small nick and lapped at her blood. He was achingly hard now and needed her badly. He couldn’t take any more foreplay; he desperately wanted to be inside her.

“Fuck me,” she begged him. “I need your cock. Please.”

Jughead cut the tie, freeing her hands, and tossed the knife onto the floor. He pulled her thighs apart and slid in between them with a hard thrust.

Betty threw her head back and cried out. “God, yes, Jug! Yes!”

It was bliss from the start; her pussy was so incredibly slick. His mouth was full of her juices, her blood. The way he made love to her was hard and fast and intense. It was all need, no delicacy; he battered at her body like he wanted to break her apart.

She sank her teeth into his shoulder. “I love the things you do to me. Fuck me, Jug. I never want it to stop.” She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper inside her.

“I need this,” Jughead panted. “Betty, I need this so much. I need you so much.” Her body. Her love. All of it, everything she gave him.

“I need you, too.” She scratched his shoulder with her nails so hard she drew blood.

He winced at the stinging sensation. “Fuck, Betty.”

Betty licked his shoulder, lapping the blood off the scratches she’d made. It was the most erotic thing he’d seen her do yet. She’d swallowed first his cum, now his blood. It made him burn for her. “Yes, baby. That is so hot, Betty.”

“I have your cock inside me and your blood on my tongue.” She gasped as she came and her pussy spasmed around him, sending him over the edge. “This is perfect. We are so perfect together.”

“Oh, God, Betty. My love.” Jughead was swept away by his orgasm, by this dark and intense bond they shared. Betty was everything he’d ever wanted. What they shared together was everything he’d never known he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has become more than I planned! Please let me know what you think. Comments and kudos appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


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